Discord & Disaster
by Calendulam
Summary: While Kurt is waiting for Blaine to meet him at the Lima Bean he is kidnapped along with a pesky Sebastian. They need to put aside their differences and work together to escape and return to their loved ones, including an increasingly desperate Blaine.
1. Chapter 1

So, I wrote this for a prompt on the GKM on LJ. It's been an experience. I certainly never thought I would write a 30k+ fic for a fill over there, but here it is. I'm going to edit it and start posting it here chapter by chapter.

This fic is very different than anything I've written before. Feedback would be loved. :) Oh, and I don't own Glee.

This story contains kidnapping, homophobic language and violence. Just a warning.

~0~

**Discord & Disaster**

Blaine is late.

Kurt shifts in his seat, turning his body towards the entrance. He spins his coffee cup around in circles and swishes the hot liquid within. He straightens the sugar packet, napkin and stir stick he had set out next to Blaine's medium drip. And when Blaine still hasn't shown up, Kurt pulls out his phone and checks for missed messages. Nothing.

He takes a sip of his mocha and leans back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other and bouncing it nervously. Blaine is never this late and it is too early in the morning for traffic to be an issue.

His coffee is getting cold.

~0~

Sebastian Smythe has been called many things over the years – some more deserved than others – but what exactly does 'equal opportunity narcissist' even mean? Trent is a very strange guy. Sebastian ponders the name as he waits in line to buy his coffee, fiddling with the ends of his blazer sleeves. He needs to get the thing tailored; the too-long arms make him feel like a little kid playing dress-up, and he does not like that feeling in the least. It reminds him of his father. He forces himself to smile at the lady taking his order. Someday he will end up with lines around his mouth and eyes from smiling at people when he doesn't actually care.

Though Sebastian had been hoping for some Anderson eye candy to go along with his caffeine fix, he spots Kurt all alone at a table by the window instead. He looks nervous and fidgety and that is Sebastian's favourite way to find him. He grins and takes a swallow of coffee before strutting on over. He steels himself in preparation for some good barbs.

It is such a fun game they play.

~0~

Of course Blaine's mother would pick _this_ morning of all mornings to want to have a serious discussion about his future. He knows his parents have been working towards it for awhile, with all of their completely unsubtle hints about how the entertainment industry is like a crapshoot, and singing, that's really more of a _hobby_ than a _career_. Blaine is glad they've let slip these hints and pointed a giant, flashing neon arrow in the direction of this very conversation. It has given him a chance to think it through and form a coherent and cohesive argument.

But _this morning_, this morning when he is meant to be meeting Kurt. This morning when last night their usual parting _I love yous_ were replaced by an ominous text: _We should meet for coffee before school to talk._ This morning after he and Kurt had had a pretty serious argument and Blaine hadn't slept all night for worrying about it.

He needs to get to Kurt and tell him he changed his mind and doesn't want to spend the summer anywhere but wherever Kurt is.

But his mother just won't stop talking.

~0~

"And where is your _extremely_ better half this morning?"

Kurt wants to groan out loud and bang his head on the table. He wants to tell Sebastian to take his unattractive little sneer and shove it up his ass to join the rest of his head and the dicks of half the gay population of Allen County. Somehow he refrains.

He knows he looks like crap. Knows that no amount of cucumber-infused eye serum can hide the fact that he spent much of the night before sobbing into his pillow. He knows this, so he is down one brick in his fortress. He has to keep his cool, keep his tongue sharp and his eyes narrowed. He takes a sip of his coffee without answering.

"You bought him a coffee, I see. And yet..." Sebastian grins and looks around the shop, his shoulders up around his ears and hands stretched outward, palms up. "Not here."

"He's running late." Kurt's voice is croaky. He hopes Sebastian mistakes the reason for illness.

"Or maybe he ditched you for a much sweeter prospect."

Kurt lets his eyes fall closed and grinds his teeth. Of course Sebastian would hit him directly in his greatest insecurity. He hears Blaine's voice in his head telling him about the possibility of his going to Chicago or Baltimore for the summer to work at Six Flags as if that prospect isn't hurtful like a sucker punch to the gut. As if Kurt couldn't care less that his boyfriend was so flippant about petering away the very minimal time they have left before Kurt goes away to New York. Blaine is probably coming here to break up with him. He is probably late because he is sitting in his car on the side of the road somewhere working out exactly what he should say. Blaine likes to prepare his words, not fling them about haphazardly to cut where they can.

And Sebastian is still sitting there smirking down at him as though he can read Kurt's mind.

"You know what? I can't deal with you today. Goodbye, Sebastian."

He stands from his seat and gathers his empty cup along with Blaine's full one, the sugar, the stir stick and everything else and deposits them all in the nearest garbage before heading outside.

~0~

Something he said got to Kurt and though Sebastian knows he should let it go, leave Kurt to lick his wounds in private, he simply cannot. Kurt's theoretical wounds are far too delicious a possibility.

He can see him outside, checking his phone and shaking his head. He paces back and forth along the walkway, eyes darting this way and that looking for what can only be Blaine's car.

Sebastian has never been very good at self-deprivation. He slides from his chair and goes to join Kurt outside.

"You seemed upset in there. I was worried," Sebastian says by way of greeting, enjoying the way Kurt's eyes flash.

"As if you actually care about anyone besides yourself. You are the epitome of self-centred."

"Takes one to know one."

Kurt scoffs. "You know nothing about me."

"Doesn't take but a moment to see that you hold yourself more highly than anyone else."

Kurt's eyes flash again and Sebastian barely holds back a fist pump. Such titillating danger.

"As I said, you know nothing."

"Oh, like how you would sell out your own boyfriend for a chance to beat your rival at a singing competition?"

Kurt stops looking off in the distance for a glimpse of Blaine's phantom car and meets Sebastian's eyes. "Blaine didn't want the Warblers to be disbanded."

"So Blaine saved me? Remind me to thank him _properly_ next time I see him."

And Kurt's viciousness is suddenly back in full measure – that darling protectiveness for Blaine bringing it out every time. As he opens his pretty, pink lips to annihilate Sebastian with his words, a van comes towards them going far too fast and they have to leap back as it jumps up over the curb.

"What the fuck –" Sebastian yells, but too late. A clammy hand is clapped over his mouth and a bulky figure is strong-arming him in through the back doors of the vehicle. He braces his feet against the bumper and pushes back, hoping to overbalance his captor. A cold, hard object slams into his back directly over his right kidney and he falls forward with a gasp of pain.

He feels another body flop half on top of him and hears the doors slam closed. Before he can react, before he can untangle himself from the warm limbs of the person he is pretty positive is Kurt, the van is lurching forward and bumping off the curb and racing away, tires squealing against the pavement.

~0~


	2. Chapter 2

And here's part two. I have finished writing this, so it's a serial and not a WIP. I'll be posting quite frequently until it's all up. Just depends how lazy I am about editing. :D Glad to see I've piqued some of your interests! Hopefully you enjoy the rest.

~0~

Blaine rushes through the doors of the Lima Bean. Kurt's Navigator is still parked out front in his usual spot; he's still waiting. Maybe he will have some good gossip as to why the police are spread out across the parking lot, cruiser lights flashing. But he doesn't see Kurt sitting at their usual table; doesn't see him at any of the tables. He tells himself that Kurt must be in the restroom, all the while a panic, something like a premonition, twisting his stomach into knots. He spots his favourite barista behind the counter.

"Sheila? Have you seen Kurt? What's going on?" It all comes out in a jumbled rush and Blaine takes a deep breath, ready to repeat himself when she lays a hand on his arm. Her eyes are pitying and Blaine begins shaking his head.

"Blaine...um... Tracy was wiping down the tables by the window and she saw – Kurt and that tall boy from your old school were talking outside and these guys pulled up in a van and grabbed them. Pushed them inside. She called the police right away."

Blaine feels his legs begin to give out beneath him. He leans on the counter, eyes losing focus as he stares at a jar with a jovial _Tips Please :)_ sign taped to the side of it. There is a quarter and a handful of dimes and nickels inside. People are so cheap about tipping the baristas. He can vaguely hear Sheila's soft voice telling him that she's sorry and the police will find him and that he should sit down and she can bring him a cup of coffee. The tip jar blurs as his eyes fill with moisture and he shakes his head more and more quickly. "Why?" he hears his voice whisper. Why would someone do this?

"I don't know, dear."

"I have to do something." Blaine snaps out of it, stands a little straighter, resolute. If he were snatched and shoved into a van Kurt wouldn't stand around falling apart in a coffee shop. He would do something.

"The police are –" But he doesn't hear what it is that the police are doing. He whips out his phone and hits number three on his speed dial: Burt Hummel.

Burt picks up on the first ring.

~0~

He sees Blaine's name flash across the screen of his phone and snatches it up. Maybe they're together. Maybe this has been some sort of cruel joke. He's barely said hello before Blaine's panicked voice begins talking over him from across town. So much for that. He sits down on a kitchen chair and lets out a slow breath.

"I know. I know, kid. Shh. Listen. The police are here, too. Those creeps called me. It's some sort of kidnapping plot but they didn't tell me what they want yet. It's something political, because they kept calling me 'Congressman'."

"What can we do? I want to help. I _need_ to help."

Burt can hear the kid's tears, can feel his sense of helplessness. Hell, it's the very same feeling coursing through Burt's own body right now, making him want to go wild and burn the place up until he finds his son. But he needs to hold it together. He'll be no good to anyone if he gets like that. Not to his precious boy, and not to Blaine now, who needs some sort of plan to calm him, make him feel like someone, at least, has got it together. Burt hopes his acting skills are top notch today.

"You shouldn't drive right now, okay? I'll call you a cab and you can come on over here and we'll make a plan –"

"No," the boy says. "I'm fine. I'm... I'm coming."

"Blaine, you're not –"

And Burt doesn't even have time to play the "Kurt wouldn't want you to drive when you're upset" card before Blaine is hanging up with a rushed _see you soon_. Burt snaps his phone closed and rubs a hand over his head. He's not sure he could have gotten Kurt's name out without breaking into pieces anyway, and who would that help? Nobody. He has to hold it together.

~0~

Kurt pulls himself into sitting position. The back of the van is entirely stripped – no seats, no carpet, no identifying markers. Sebastian is still lying prone on his right, hissing in pain and clutching his side. The wave of his tacky, slicked 'do is standing straight up as if in greeting and Kurt has the urge to laugh. He is clearly hysterical.

There are two huge men in the van with them. He recognizes the one who grabbed Sebastian by his hideous plaid, puffy hunter jacket. Hideous Jacket is behind the wheel. Kurt wants to tell him to slow down when he takes the corners because the swaying and sliding on the slick metal of the van floor is making him want to throw up. And really, they should be far enough away from the Lima Bean by now that they can go at a normal speed. It's stupid of them to draw such attention to the vehicle. He hopes Hideous Jacket continues to make these idiotic blunders. It will make being rescued that much easier.

The second man, the one who must have jumped Kurt, is sitting on the floor facing them, holding a small hand gun. He is wearing a balaclava with enlarged holes over the eyes and mouth and Kurt can make out a black beard speckled with grey and a pair of beady, red-rimmed hazel eyes. He can smell the acrid scent of the man's body odour and the Old Spice he used to try and mask it, as well as the sharp smell of stale cigarette smoke.

Sebastian hisses again as he turns over and tries to sit up; Hideous Jacket taking another sharp turn just as he manages it and sending him hurtling to his side once more. He curses loudly and Old Spice waves his gun at them.

"Quiet, preppy boy," Old Spice says with a sneer. "Or I'll shut ya up fer good."

Kurt can see Sebastian swallow nervously out of the corner of his eye. Old Spice sees it too and he grins widely, showing yellowed, fuzzy looking teeth. Kurt can barely hold back a shudder. "D'you like my pretty gun, boys? I shined it up all nice just fer you." He's watching them through the holes in his mask, a predatory gleam in his eye.

"Maybe if you had spent half as much time on your own personal hygiene I wouldn't feel quite so close to vomiting right now." Kurt didn't even mean to say it. He knows that some things are better left lurking in the corners of his brain for his own amusement, and not blurted all over willy-nilly. But it's like second nature to him: feel threatened, mouth off. It's not exactly the best plan when the bully is armed with more than their ludicrously low IQ.

Kurt sees the man's eyes narrow a split second before he feels it: a sharp crack across the side of his face, then he is falling backwards, his head slamming into the corrugated wall of the van. He splutters and coughs, his eyes heavy and the head-splitting, agonizing pain tearing through his face and blurring his vision. He feels sluggish. Everything is grey. Until it is black.

~0~

Sebastian tries to be subtle when he checks if Kurt is still breathing. The guy with the gun is distracted, talking with the one driving and Sebastian places a hand in front of Kurt's mouth. He feels warmth as Kurt breathes in and out. It is unsteady, but it's something. Sebastian leans against the wall and closes his eyes in relief. Sure, Kurt is obnoxious and embarrassing in his girliness, but that was just... he has never seen anything like that, not outside of a movie, and it was goddamn _scary_. He glances at Kurt again. There is no blood, but he can clearly see a bump forming over his cheekbone, already an angry red. He's lucky the guy didn't break a bone. With that and the probability that Sebastian himself is bleeding internally from being smashed in the kidney, these guys are going to be in a shit load of trouble when they get out of this. If they get out of this...

"Alright, preppy. We're gonna blindfold you now. Don't need you seein' where we're goin'."

The guy driving pulls off on the shoulder of the road and joins them in the back. He binds Kurt's ankles and wrists while the one who hit Kurt keeps Sebastian at gunpoint. "Don't think that mouthy little queer needs a blindfold, eh?" he jokes. The driver glares at the one with the gun but says nothing.

He comes toward Sebastian next, pushing him forward roughly and wrenching his arms behind his back. Sebastian tries to hold back a wince as the rope cuts into his wrists. A smelly, dark piece of fabric is then pulled down over his eyes and he tries not to gag. It's disgusting, like a pair of socks left in a gym locker for an entire semester. Kurt's crack about personal hygiene had hit home with that guy for a reason. Even their blindfolds need to be washed.

He senses the driver move away and a moment later the engine roars back to life. He seems to be taking his time now; it no longer feels like they are on board an amusement park ride without having been strapped in.

It is obvious when they leave the main road. The driver is going even more slowly and yet the van is bumping and pitching them every which way. Sebastian hears a low groan coming from his left: Kurt. The next second the van goes over a particularly large bump and he is thrown sideways. Kurt groans again and Sebastian can feel his warm body pressed against his thigh.

By the time the van lurches to a stop Sebastian thinks he's going to be sick. "Home sweet home," the jackass with the gun crows. The back doors are thrown open and a light breeze wafts in. He takes a deep breath, thankful that the funk of the men is slowly dissipating.

And then he is being hauled to his feet, a gun pressed firmly into the small of his back. "Walk," says a gruff voice. The driver.

~0~

The moment when you come to should be gradual – more like waking from a dream than being forcefully pitched from a nightmare. Unfortunately this is not always the case.

The pain in his face makes him whimper, his vision still blurry but slowly coming into focus. And he sees... a swan? The rusted metal head of a swan, its beady little hollowed out eyes staring blankly. "What the actual fuck?" And Kurt's voice is all wrong, low and growly – more like his dad's than his own.

"You're awake."

Kurt jumps at the unexpected voice, his heart pounding in his chest. He wrenches upwards and hisses as his knee brings up against the body of the swan and his wrists burn: his arms are tied behind him. Also behind him is a warm body that is now shifting against his back, tugging the ropes tight between them. "Stop moving, they're cutting into my skin!"

"Well how do you think it felt when you went all spastic? Comfy?"

Shit. Sebastian. The Lima Bean. The van. Hideous Jacket and Old Spice. _Fuck_.

"Where the hell are we and why are we sitting in a swan?"

"No idea. They didn't take the blindfold off until they'd tied us here. And it's two swans."

"What?"

"Two swans. One at your end and one at mine. Their bodies kinda join in the middle. It looks like it used to be some sort of paddle boat."

"I don't – I don't give a fuck about the damn swan! Where the hell are we and where did those guys go?"

"You asked about the swan!"

"I asked _why_ we are seated in a swan. I didn't say describe the swan to me, please be detailed."

"Oh, God, I really, really cannot stand you, Hummel. It just had to be you, didn't it? I get fucking abducted and now I'm stuck tied to _you_."

"In two swans that look like a boat, don't forget."

"Oh, shut the fuck up."

"Wait... Swans. A boat made of swans..."

"I get it, alright? There are more pressing matters than the fucking swans."

An idea is trying to take shape in Kurt's mind, but his brain feels fuzzy like his vision. He strains his ears and takes a sniff of the air. It's dank and musty and there is a constant _drip drip drip_ in the distance. What light there is is coming in long, thin beams, as though the ceiling above is slotted. "No, shut up. Look around at this place. It's concrete. It's a man made tunnel."

"So? Who's being overly descriptive now?"

"There's water dripping, can you hear it? I think this is one of those tunnel of love places, like in an old amusement park. Like in Hitchcock's _Strangers on a Train_. In which it was the scene of a murder, worryingly enough."

"Well, good skills of deduction, Sherlock, but how does that even help us?"

Kurt huffs and gives an irritated little tug on the rope tying them together. "If we can figure out where we are, it'll help us escape, won't it?"

"And how are we going to escape? We're tied to each other in a goddamn swan boat in what you have deduced is an abandoned Tunnel of Love. Seems like we're soundly fucked to me. And not in a good way."

Kurt takes a deep breath and tries to keep his head. His vision is beginning to blur again, just at the edges, and he has never felt so sleepy. He yawns hugely. "We should check the knots," he says. It comes out slurred.

"And how are we going to do that? All of our hands are tied together behind us," Sebastian snaps. "We should just wait it out. My father will have someone here in no time. He will find us."

Kurt tugs at the ropes, trying to twist his fingers in between to feel for the knots. It feels looser than it should; there is a fair amount of slack between their hands.

"Seriously, stop it. My father will get the police here. You're hurting us for no good reason."

"Is that a fact? We don't even know if anyone saw them take us, so you'll forgive me, Miss Cleo, if I don't put enough stock in your premonitions to chance Smelly and Smellier coming back in here and accidentally shooting one of us."

Kurt tugs on the bonds again and a wave of nausea overtakes him. He falls forward, pulling Sebastian with him and retches over the swan's shoulder.

"Jesus. Warn me next time you've got to puke, would you?"

Kurt leans his face against the cool metal of the swan's long neck. He's just so sleepy.

"Kurt! Don't pass back out, you've got a concussion. Kurt!" Sebastian wrenches Kurt's body backwards, away from his swan and he curses. "Don't fall asleep."

"Fine! You didn't have to do that. Christ, my face hurts. Did you see what it looks like? Nothing's broken, is it?"

"What do you care? It might make you look a bit more manly if it is."

"I happen to like my face, thank you very much." Kurt sniffs and even that hurts.

"I suppose it might be appealing... to someone with a very specific fetish. You look like a 12 year old girl."

"Actually," Kurt says, trying to sound haughty but just barely managing it. "I look quite a lot like my mother. And I don't take that as an insult, no matter how you meant it."

"Why the hell would you want to look like your mother? Is it some twisted –"

"She's dead. When I was eight."

And Sebastian is blissfully silent. Kurt leans forward again, only slightly, and rests his cheek against the swan. "Well, at least she didn't get the chance to disappoint you," Sebastian says in a quiet voice Kurt has never heard him use before.

"And that didn't reek of bitterness or anything."

"Fuck you."

"You wish, nympho." Kurt's face slips and he falls forward.

"What the fuck!" Sebastian exclaims and yanks him back.

"I feel strange all of a sudden." Kurt's head has gone woozy again. The room is spinning, the swan watching him, its blank eyes suddenly holding a fraction of mirth.

"Yeah, because you got hit in the face with a gun, genius. Like I said, you have a concussion." He just needs to close his eyes. Just for a moment. Just until the spinning stops. And then he'll find the knots. Kurt is good with knots. Windsor knots and Hanover knots and slip knots and sailor's knots. His mom taught him. She knew how to sail. She was good with knots, too. "Kurt!" Sebastian sounds far away. His voice is echoing. "Stay awake! You've got a head injury. Kurt!"

"Just five more minutes, Dad," Kurt mumbles. He's so sleepy. He hasn't missed a day all semester, and he's only got French this morning. He can speak French more fluently than the teacher anyway.

He hears a mutter of _just fucking perfect_, and then he's out again.


	3. Chapter 3

Hey all! Thanks for the comments/alerts/favourites. :)

~0~

Burt meets Blaine at the door. His eyes look lost, but at least he's not trembling the way Blaine is and he takes comfort in that. There is a police car in the driveway where Kurt's Navigator usually sits. Blaine tears his eyes away from it and leans into Burt as he squeezes his shoulder and ushers him inside.

Burt introduces him to the officers drinking coffee in the kitchen. The one he calls Ruth Myers gives them a wave and continues to speak in hushed tones into her cell phone, pacing back and forth under the window. Her partner, Dale Wilcox, smiles and takes a slow drink of his coffee. It smells like Kurt's special dark roast that he only drinks when he needs to stay awake late writing papers or studying.

"Are you the stepbrother?" Officer Wilcox asks.

"Um... what?" Blaine looks at him distractedly. Had he really just been mistaken for Finn?

"No, that's Finn. He's on his way home," Burt answers for him, seeing as Blaine can only seem to manage to stand there looking confused and petrified. "Blaine is Kurt's boyfriend." Blaine loves Burt all the more for how nonchalant he is about the whole thing.

"Oh, right, sorry." The man doesn't even bat an eye, just continues sipping Kurt's coffee, a vague sort of smile on his face. "We should have some more information for you as soon as Ruthie gets off the phone with the detective." He glances over at his partner and she gives him a nod. "She's the brains of this operation. I'm only here to look pretty."

Officer Myers snorts a laugh as she ends her call and comes towards the three of them. "Well then you're shirking your duties, Wilcox. There's vagrants in the tank coming off a bender prettier than you."

Blaine looks between the two officers. He can't believe they are being so inappropriate, wasting time making stupid jokes when Kurt is _missing_ and it's their job to find him before anything more terrible can happen. Ruth must sense his anger; she gives him a sad sort of smile before turning to Burt and flipping open her notebook.

"Your son is a very intelligent boy, Mr. Hummel. A witness at the scene saw him kick at the licence plate as he was being wrestled into the van, and she was pretty sure he'd done it on purpose. They had caked the plate with mud and he managed to dislodge a fair bit of it, so we've got a partial and they're running it now. Looks like a vanity plate, too, so it should be easier to narrow down."

"That's my boy," Burt mutters under his breath. Blaine takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. Of course Kurt would keep his head and continue to be brilliant in a crisis.

"We've also got a good description of both men – not their faces, they were wearing masks – but their builds and clothing, as well as their van. We know which direction they sped off in, and we're canvassing for witnesses along that route. We should find them soon. Until then, we're going to sit tight here and wait for the kidnappers to contact you again. Find out what they want and maybe get a sense of where they're calling from, as well as a trace if they're inexperienced. Detective Mody should be here later to speak with you directly."

"Thank you, Officer."

She smiles and places a hand on both Burt's and Blaine's shoulders. "Please call me Ruth."

Carole and Finn burst in then, rushing to them in a panic. Blaine feels in the way, like he's eavesdropping on a family moment. Finn sees him standing awkwardly by and pulls him into their embrace. "This is the worst," he whispers. Blaine swallows the lump in his throat and tries not to join Carole in her tears.

~0~

It takes a lot of tugging and a fair bit of pinching for Sebastian to startle Kurt awake again.

"Japanese cherry blossoms?"

"What?" Kurt's sounds as though he could pass back out at any second. Sebastian tightens his grip on the ropes and pulls a little. He needs to keep him awake.

"That's what you were just mumbling about. Japanese cherry blossoms. What about them?"

"Oh..." Kurt is quiet for a long moment. If he wasn't shifting against Sebastian's back he would worry, no, _think_, that he had passed out again. "I don't have a clue what that was about," Kurt finally answers. The hitch in his voice betrays his lie.

"Well, I might believe you're telling the truth, if your dramatic pause hadn't suggested otherwise."

"Dramatic pause?" Kurt says, back to his old wry self. "Wow, you really are gay after all."

And Sebastian finds himself laughing, just a little. "Don't let it give you any ideas."

Kurt snorts and then lets out a whimper of pain. "You are so far from my type that you're digging a hole to China."

"That made absolutely _zero_ sense."

"Well excuse me for being concussed!" Kurt slumps forward again, pulling at the bonds and groaning.

"At least you're admitting to it now."

"When did I refute it?" His voice comes out muffled this time. He is leaning even farther forward. Sebastian yanks him back.

"Oh I'm sure you did at some point. Being disagreeable is kind of your thing."

Kurt snorts again and lets out another moan of pain. "Stop that. It makes my face hurt."

"Stop what? Being so charming and amusing you?"

"Christ you're annoying. I've got to get away from you. Okay... the ropes. You don't have anything sharp, do you?"

"No, and how the hell would we get it in our hands if I did?"

"I don't know. We have to start somewhere, don't we? Could you be at least a little bit helpful here?"

Sebastian rolls his eyes and looks around the dank tunnel. He sees no possible way for them to get out. His feet are tied to the swan. His hands are tied to Kurt's. They're fucked, unless someone comes to their rescue. And even with his boasting about his father being their inevitable saviour, he's really, truly hoping that the Hummels care about Kurt far more than his parents do about him. Because that isn't a whole hell of a lot.

He begins to tell Kurt to stop trying to be James Bond and sit tight and let the professionals do their jobs, when Kurt hisses at him to shut up. There are footsteps in the distance echoing off the concrete walls. Shouldn't they be yelling to let the owners of those feet know they're here, and not shutting up? He opens his mouth to speak his thoughts just as their burly captors come into view.

"You boys is famous!" the one who hit Kurt greets them jovially. "Breaking news on the local stations and everythin'. And didn't we get a big surprise." He comes to rest in front of Sebastian, waving his precious gun and grinning. "Yer daddy's big and important too, inne, boy? State's Attorney Anthony Smythe, and yer his homo son. We was only goin' fer the one fairy, but it looks like we got ourselves a twofer, eh, Dwight?"

"Don't tell 'em my name, Neil, you fucknuts!" growls the other man, the one who had driven the van.

Neil scratches his head with the gun, looking confused. "But now you went and said my name, too."

Dwight grumbles nonsensically and walks around the side of the swan boat. He shoves his own gun into his belt and starts rummaging through the pockets of his grease stained hooded sweater. He pulls out a few handfuls of shiny packets and tosses them on the ground. "Here's some food for you. If you can reach it." Neil laughs and spits on the concrete. "We gotta go have a powwow with the bossman. You boys sit tight."

"And don't be thinkin' you can get smoochin' on each other when we're out. If we come back an see any of that we'll beat the pansy right outta ya, got me?" Neil holds his gun out and waves it threateningly. Sebastian swallows, watching it swish through the air. He doesn't want to feel it smashing into his face the way it had into Kurt's. One of them has to stay halfway sane throughout this, and not be passing out every five minutes due to brain damage.

"Right, because being gay obviously means that I have no taste," Kurt says snottily from behind him.

Sebastian closes his eyes. Speaking of brain damage... "Shut up, Kurt," he hisses.

"Yer a mouthy little S.O.B., ain't ya? You'd better listen to yer boyfriend if ya know what's good for ya, princess."

"Maybe I would if he was actually here. You should lend me a phone so I can call him and ask what he thinks."

_Are you fucking insane?_ Sebastian wants to yell. Neil begins to stalk forward. "You smartass, uppity little –"

Dwight grabs him by the arm and pulls him away. "Leave it," he warns. "We gotta go. Later."

"Right," Neil agrees with a nod. "_Later_. I'll get you later, fairies."

And they stomp off down the tunnel in the direction they came. Sebastian takes a deep breath. "Are you fucking insane?" he says at last. "Or suicidal?"

"I just thought we could use a little incentive to get out of here. I've certainly got some now. You?"

"Fuck yes. I don't feel like being cornholed by that filthy redneck today, thanks."

"Right then. I've got my feet free already. If you twist yours back and forth enough you should be able to slip the ropes right off. These guys suck at tying a person up."

"And you're an expert on the subject?"

Kurt hums and begins feeling between their hands at the knotted ropes. "Maybe I am."

~0~

The man comes into Burt's house like he owns the place and Burt dislikes him immediately. He thinks he's always gotten a pretty good read on people, and Anthony Smythe reads like a high falutin' jackass.

"So what we need here is media attention," he announces to the room at large. "In cases like these anonymous tips can be the best bet at finding the captives."

"It could also tick off the kidnappers and they might take it out on our boys," Burt argues. "We should go with what the police have now and wait and see what the demands are."

"Well, I have yet to be contacted." And the man actually seems insulted. How dare a person kidnap his son and want nothing from him? Burt wants to ask him to leave, as politely as he can, but he stops himself. The man is in the exact same boat as Burt himself, and maybe this is how he's dealing with his own panic. Burt surrounds himself with loved ones so he is forced to stay strong for everyone, be the rock, but maybe Anthony Smythe needs to be bossy and feel as though he's accomplishing something on his own.

"Anyway," he continues, looking down his nose and straightening out the nonexistent wrinkles in his suit coat. "I've already contacted my press people. There are spots interrupting the current programming on stations as far away as Columbus as we speak."

And suddenly Burt feels far less empathetic. "You did what? I'm telling you, Smythe, if you put my boy in any more danger than he – " He feels a soft hand grip his arm and looks down at his wife. She is shaking her head very slightly, and gesturing almost imperceptibly to her right. Blaine is standing there, eyes wide and terrified, looking about ready to collapse in on himself. Burt isn't being a very good rock. He turns to Officers Myers and Wilcox. "Ruth?" he asks. "Will it help?"

"It sometimes does. We can only canvas so much. We may get a lot of false leads, but we only need one good witness to find them."

"Alright," Burt says. Sometimes is better than nothing.

~0~

Kurt was right about the ropes. He finds that they're wound around and around and around, like those idiots hadn't been sure what to do with the excess once they'd tied their wrists and had an abundance left over in between.

"No, you imbecile, circle your hands to the _right_. _I_ have to go left. You're only making it tighter. Can't you follow simple directions?"

"Sorry, Mr. Fabulous, but it's difficult to tell which way I'm going with my wrists at this angle and how much the rope is fucking burning me! Some of us aren't as limp wristed as you are."

"Yes, because you're so butch. Careful there, your self-loathing is showing."

"Oh shut up and twist your wrists. Something I'm sure you're doing constantly in a desperate attempt to keep Blaine interested."

"Don't even speak his name, you putrid little rodent," Kurt growls just as they unwind the last loop of rope. There is a good two feet between their hands. "Oh, if only you were more flexible you could use those gigantic, undoubtedly sharp teeth to gnaw through the ropes." Sebastian grabs a fistful of rope and gives it a yank, muttering under his breath. "We can probably get up now," Kurt suggests.

"We're still tied together. It's not like we're going to get far like this."

Sebastian's voice has taken on a whiny tone that Kurt cannot tolerate. He shuts his eyes and counts to five in his head before responding; his reply still comes out sounding aggravated. "If you stand up and come to the side I might be able to untie your hands and then you can do mine."

"Okay fine. But I don't see how that's going to work." Sebastian heaves an audible sigh and begins to stand with Kurt.

Kurt gets up too quickly, trying to keep time with him, but his legs are wobbly and he stumbles forward. He brings his knees up against the body of the swan to steady himself and avoid going down the rest of the way.

"Jesus! Would you be more careful? I almost cut my face open on this million year old rusty bird's throat!" Sebastian yells.

Kurt shushes him. They have no idea how far away the 'bossman' is and should try to be a bit quieter, really. "Cut?" he asks. "What do you mean, cut?"

"Well, the head's broken on mine and the neck is all sharp. You nearly brained me on the –"

Kurt can't believe him. He had been staring at a piece of sharp metal this whole time and didn't say anything? Is he a complete moron? You don't have to be a damn boyscout to know that in order to escape you need to: A) cut the damn ropes and, B) ESCAPE. "Sharp enough to, say, cut rope?" he bites out, barely opening his mouth. Opening his mouth would mean an end to grinding his teeth, and there is no way Kurt can do that, because if he doesn't find some outlet for his rage he really is going to brain Sebastian on the damn swan's razor sharp throat.

Sebastian stays quiet for a long moment. "Maybe," he says at last, his voice softer than before. "It would take a lot of –"

Kurt huffs and tugs Sebastian's hands. "Shift over so we can cut this damn rope."

Kurt pushes him roughly to the side and pulls his hands towards the jagged metal of the swan's neck. Its head is only partially detached and lolling creepily to one side.

"So I'm supposed to just trust you to cut my bonds when you're all brain damaged?"

Kurt rolls his eyes and positions the rope over the edge. He feels for Sebastian's fingers and smacks them to the side. "Shut up and saw."

Kurt ends up on the outside of the boat with Sebastian on the inside, sawing back and forth, finally breaking through the rope and freeing Sebastian's hands. And Kurt is tired again. So tired. He rests his back against the boat and closes his eyes. His head feels light, all of that movement after sitting for so long is too much for him. And of course there is the constant throbbing pain in his head and face, which he is trying valiantly to ignore. They have to get away first, and then he can worry about that. Escape now, sleep later. And hopefully take a Tylenol or five.

He slips his fingers between the knots in the end of the rope still binding his hands together. They're looser now and he tugs the loop on the side, tugs and tugs until it slides through and out and one hand slips mercifully free. He pries the rope from the other hand and drops it to the floor, sighing happily as he rolls his shoulders and rubs at his sore wrists.

"Okay, let's cut your –" Sebastian turns around and stops in his tracks. He looks from Kurt's hands to the ropes on the ground. "How the hell did you do that?" When Kurt just stands there continuing to rub at the rope burns on his wrists, Sebastian shakes his head. "Seriously, you're like this dainty little girl, and then we get here and you're all _rawr_, look at me escape regardless of my massive head wound! I can make ropes magically disappear!" His voice grows louder as he rants and paces, his fingers trying in vain to run through his hair.

"Would you keep it down?" Kurt says with a roll of his eyes. He carefully touches the bump on his cheekbone and hisses in pain. "Dammit, he really got me good. I wish I had a mirror to get a look at how bad it is."

"And she's back!" Sebastian exclaims, throwing his arms wide. "Shouldn't we be getting out of here, Lara Croft, or is your need for coverup on your brand new shiner more important than avoiding those hillbillies?"

Kurt's hand shifts upward and he gasps. "I have a black eye?"

"You are such a goddamn woman," Sebastian mutters.

Kurt huffs and bypasses Sebastian to pick up the packets Dwight had thrown on the ground before leaving. He studies them – Bits N Bites and Wine Gums and Milk Duds– and stuffs them into his pockets. Hopefully they won't be gone long enough to get hungry, but something vaguely resembling food is better than nothing at all.

He turns back to Sebastian; he's still glaring at Kurt like he has personally offended him. "And why would it matter if I _was_ a woman?" Sebastian crosses his arms over his chest and gives Kurt a smug look as if to say, _I thought so_. "It wouldn't make me any more or less adept at escaping this. Santana would have gotten out of here hours ago with both of those guys balls in her pockets."

"Yeah, but she's a lesbian."

Kurt opens his mouth and closes it again, only realizing that he's shaking his head when he begins to feel dizzy. "What? _Wow_... just... wow. You are..." Kurt huffs and shoots Sebastian the best unimpressed look that he can muster. "That doesn't make her any less of a girl," he spits. "And you know what? Me being... _me_ doesn't make me any less of a guy either. I don't know where the hell you get off – " Kurt stops himself and closes his eyes. It's not worth it. Sebastian is not worth it. And they really need to get their asses in gear and get the hell away before those troglodytes return and do God knows what to them. "You know what? You're hopeless. You've managed to strike me speechless. Bravo. It's an unbelievably difficult task."

"So it would seem," Sebastian replies with a sneer.

"I'm not wasting my breath on you anymore. Stay here and rot for all I care." Kurt struts past Sebastian in the direction the men had come. He hears an even stride catch up to him not half a second later. "Oh, coming along, are you? It's not as though I could actually help you escape, seeing as I'm such a girl and you're a goddamn misogynist."

"Still better than being by myself, I figure. If we get caught, those guys hate you way worse than they hate me. They were after _you_ in the first place. So if they catch us, you'll be the first to get the shit beaten out of you. Because they think you're a girl, too."

"And so I'd deserve it, right? You have a serious problem with women, don't you?"

"Well, I am gay."

"And so am I, but I love women."

"Oh, did you want to talk about my mother, Doctor Freud?" Sebastian snaps.

Kurt ignores his tone. "If you want. There won't be any mommy issue shaming here. I told you my mom's dead, so..." Sebastian stays silent. Kurt can see his jaw flex out of the corner of his eye. It is silent between them for a long moment, no sound in the tunnel but their echoing footsteps and the never ending _drip drip drip_ of some far-off trickle of water. "No?" Kurt asks. "Your prerogative. But it's something you should really address. Fifty-one percent of the world's population is female, after all."

Sebastian stops and wheels around to face him. "Look, I'm not going to talk to you about my _pain_, alright? Let's just find a way out of here."

Kurt raises his eyebrows and shrugs. He doesn't really give a damn about Sebastian's issues. He's an asshole now and he'll be an asshole for the rest of his sure to be miserable life. Mostly Kurt just likes that he seems to have found something that gets under his skin so thoroughly.

He can see the end long before they reach it, and although the dimness has been clearing for some time, when they finally step outside Kurt has to practically shut his eyes to block out the blinding sun. Through Kurt's squinting, watery eyes he sees nothing but a dense forest of trees and a few derelict buildings scattered in the general vicinity.

"Fuck," Sebastian says.

"Finally something we can agree on." Kurt steels himself and looks for some direction. _Dad_, he thinks, allowing his mind to go there for the first time since he woke up in that tunnel. He knows his dad is looking for him. He hopes that he's alright, that he's staying calm, that Carole's helping him. And Blaine. He doesn't want to even contemplate what horrors must be running rampant in his poor Blaine's head. And that is his direction. Blaine and his Dad. He'll get out of this for them.


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry it's taken me so long to update. I wasn't allowed because I got a story taken down for not having a G rated summary. It had the word 'shit' in it. Oops! So if anyone is looking for my fic 'En Garde', I'll repost it later. :)

I don't own glee.

~0~

Sebastian lets out a growl of frustration and kicks a nearby bush. "What the hell are we supposed to do now?"

Kurt rolls his eyes and places his hands on his hips. He look on his face reminds Sebastian of getting a scolding from the goddamn nanny. Sebastian has the urge to punch him, right in the face where he's got that nasty discoloured lump, just to hear his shout of pain. He's such a know-it-all, prudish little ass.

"Calm down," he says in that snooty way of his. "We'll figure something out." He steps out further into the sunshine, though it's obvious that it pains him to do so. His eyes are squinted and he's holding and hand over his forehead to try and shield them. "The van left tracks. How long do you think the distance is from the main road?"

"How the fuck am I supposed to know!"

"Well, you were the one who was conscious on the drive in! Estimate! I'm not asking for exact numbers here!"

"I don't know. Maybe ten or fifteen minutes after we turned off the main road. But he had to go pretty slow. Good enough?"

Kurt sniffs and turns away, one hip struck out like he's just reached the end of the catwalk and is about to make his turn and head back up. Sebastian shakes his head. "Let's get into the trees and follow the tracks at a safe distance," he says.

"Fine," Sebastian agrees. It's better than doing nothing.

Kurt looks both ways like a kid crossing the street before grabbing Sebastian's arm and pulling him across the flattened ground and van tracks and into a thick copse of trees.

Sebastian shakes his arm out of Kurt's grasp. "I can manage on my own, _thanks_. I don't need to be led around like a puppy."

"Well I apologize. I was just trying to –"

"Be a bossy little control freak?"

Kurt's face looks pinched when he turns away. "I feel a bit woozy still and I didn't want to fall on my face, okay?"

And Sebastian doesn't quite know what to say to that... Kurt's eyes look far-away and the lump on his face is changing colour at an alarming rate. How the hell are they going to get away when he's already so messed up? Sebastian should leave him and take off himself, he thinks."Well next time warn me first before you use me as a human crutch," is what he says. Sebastian often wonders if living in the Midwest is causing him to go soft.

"Fine." Kurt does his annoying little sniffing thing and peeks out from between the trees. "The tracks go out that way. We should –"

Sebastian is watching Kurt so intently that he is confused when his eyes widen and he steps back and directly onto Sebastian's foot. "Watch the fuck out!"

Kurt claps a hand over his mouth. "They're back!" he whispers, and Sebastian finally notices it – the glint of the sun off the van as it thunders in their direction.

"Shit!" And Kurt is grabbing Sebastian once more and pulling him further into the trees. Sebastian doesn't bother to shake him off, just grips his sleeve and flies along next to him, hoping they aren't making enough commotion that the men spot them booking it through the woods.

The farther away they get, the more laboured Kurt's breathing becomes. Sebastian watches him, his eyes are flicking back and forth as he drags him around at a stumble. Sebastian knows he won't be able to go far, not at their current pace. Kurt looks about ready to collapse and there is no way Sebastian is carrying his prissy ass to safety, even if he did just free him from those ropes. "Hide," he says. "We've got to hide."

Kurt ignores him and keeps running forward, dodging around trees. "Kurt!"

"No." Kurt is shaking his head. "We need to get as far away as we can before –" He trips over a root and stumbles forward. Sebastian catches him by the arm and looks down... and it isn't a root. It isn't any part of tree. At least not anymore, though the surrounding poplars seem to be trying their damnedest to take it back.

The thing is enormous: the wooden rails and ties of the track sloping upwards and down into the mossy ground below. The wood is bleached almost white and it's rotting – slowly being devoured by the forest floor. "It's a roller coaster," Sebastian announces stupidly.

"Dammit," Kurt says. "We'll have to go around." He tugs at Sebastian's arm and motions him away. It must be the concussion, Sebastian thinks. How could anyone have such a non-reaction to finding a rotting roller coaster in the middle of nowhere?

And the roller coaster isn't the only thing. Just as Kurt's swaying gait begins to necessitate stopping to rest, they come across an old carousel. It's resting at a wonky angle, the few remaining horses leaning forward, skeletal bodies and bugged out eyes and grinning teeth – rusted and sinister.

Sebastian does not want to stop here. He pushes Kurt down by the shoulder. "You need to rest."

Kurt fights him, of course, glancing behind them and panting for breath. "Not out in the open like this," he rasps. "If we're going to stop we need to be hidden."

"Right." Sebastian walks halfway around the carousel, the embossed faces of the cherubs and Pegasus watching him with vacant eyes and demurely smiling mouths. They're creeping him the fuck out and if Kurt could manage it, he would keep going and get as far away as humanly possible. But Kurt can't manage it. There is no way.

On the ground he spots two broken bench seats next to one of the top panels of the carousel which has detached and fallen, imbedding itself in the earth. They will be sheltered from prying eyes here yet still able to see if anyone is coming; it's a perfect place to hide. At least for however long it takes for Kurt to catch his breath.

"They'll have realized by now," Kurt says once they're huddled in between the benches and the metal panel. "That we're gone."

Kurt's watery eyes keep falling closed. He blinks them back open with great effort and shakes his head. Wiping at his tears, he stifles a yawn and blinks again, slow and... another shake of his head. Sebastian can't let him pass out.

"This place is creepy," he says. It's the first thing that pops into his mind. It must be the way the round-faced baby demon is staring out at him through fifty years worth of dirt and rust and still managing to look smug. It's cheeks are pink and its chubby little finger pointing forward directly at him.

He tears his eyes away from its soulless gaze when he hears Kurt's amused snort. "It's just an old amusement park. I remember my grandfather mentioning it when I was a kid. Closed down in the '60s, I think."

"Did he happen to mention that your family owned and operated the place? Because these evil little cherubs are the spitting image of you."

"Hilarious. But no – unlike you, neither my family nor I have ever been in the _amusement_ business. I do know, however, approximately where it was located, so I might possibly be able to get us back to Lima if we make our way to a road. But of course our easiest route is now out since those morons are back and will surely be searching for us."

"Or maybe they'll cut and run if they think we've gotten away and they're about to be caught."

Kurt raises an eyebrow and cocks his head to one side. "Did either of them seem all that intelligent to you? Hmm? I think they'll be more pissed off that a couple of queers managed to escape them. They won't give up on 'teaching us a lesson'. We need to keep going."

"Give it a few minutes. It won't do us any good if you're keeling over. If you're going to be the navigator you need to keep your head or we'll just end up going around in circles. And I don't want to end up back at that tunnel." Sebastian starts, catching movement out of the corner of his eye. It's only a shadow – the leaves of a tree fluttering above and dancing across the tin painting over his shoulder. He takes a deep breath. "Or back here, for that matter," he adds. "Laugh at me if you want, but these old paintings are creepy as fuck."

Kurt smiles. "When I was a kid my mother used to read to me from this musty old tome – I think it was her grandmother's – and the illustrations looked just like this." He turns and studies the panel, running a finger over the horses and twisted banners and angels. His finger comes back dirty and he wipes it off on the grass absentmindedly. "She would do all of the voices and usually she'd end up completely deviating from the source material. But the stories she made up were always better anyway."

"When I was a kid, _my_ mother would sit on the edge of my bed, blind stinking drunk, and tell me all about how she only had me to keep my father from divorcing her and was shipping me off to a boarding school as soon as the nanny got sick of my sass. And then it turned out I was gay, so my father ended up regretting me every bit as much as my mother did. The nanny, however, still loves me to this day."

Sebastian snaps his mouth shut and stares at his fingers fiddling with a brittle white flower. Just his luck, the damn thing is probably poisonous and he'll end up with a rash all over his hands. He's just about to ask Kurt what it is, since he's the resident expert, when he speaks up, his voice quiet. "I... I'm so sorry."

Sebastian shrugs and gives him a wide smile that makes his cheeks ache. "Don't be. I'm fine. Who needs a mother anyway? Yours is dead and you're... halfway normal. You don't need one either. Except maybe to shop for the perfect pair of lavender pumps or whatever it is you do in your spare time."

"Well, I've got a stepmom. Carole. She's amazing..."

Sebastian rolls his eyes. "Right. Because of course you scored twice over in the mom department. And you've got a supportive father. And a cute, devoted boyfriend. Hell, your come probably tastes like Skittles and the sun probably literally shines out of your ass when you bend over."

Kurt quirks an eyebrow and purses his lips. "Skittles, really? At least make it something good... crème brûlée or tiramisu."

"Your come tastes like crème brûlée?"

"Well _I_ have no idea. You'll have to ask Blaine when we get back to Lima."

Sebastian laughs. "I'm definitely going to – if only to see the look on his face. But speaking of food..."

Kurt pulls a face. "Well, come might be food to _you_, but –"

Sebastian's stomach gives a low growl at the mere mention of something to eat. "Funny. Didn't you pick up what they left for us?"

"Maybe."

"Give it here." Sebastian holds out a hand, wiggling his fingers. With a roll of his eyes, Kurt reaches into the impossibly tight pockets of his jeans and pulls out several packets, leaving Sebastian baffled as to how he even managed to stuff them in there in the first place. He slaps some Milk Duds into the palm of Sebastian's hand. "Candy?"

"What were you expecting, a gourmet meal home cooked especially by King Kong and The Thing back there? Perfectly proportioned and sealed in tidy packages to be reheated at our leisure?"

Sebastian gives Kurt a dirty look and tears roughly into the plastic. The chocolate is all melted from being in Kurt's pocket and by the time they've finished eating it their hands are a mess. Kurt begins sucking and licking his fingers off one by one while Sebastian watches in disgust.

"What? It's not like we have a sink to clean up. I'm improvising."

"You're really good at that," Sebastian says just as Kurt starts going to town on his ring finger. His pale cheeks redden immediately and Sebastian laughs.

"You're an asshole," Kurt informs him. He wipes the rest of the mess off on the grass. "Come on. We've dawdled long enough."

~0~

Duran Duran is blasting from Blaine's phone and he steps out of the kitchen.

"Coop?"

"Hey Blainey! See, I'm calling you back. I'm a good brother _and_ friend. I almost always get back to you when you leave messages with my assistant, right?"

"Yeah, sure Coop," Blaine answers, only half paying attention to his brother's voice. He's staring at a photograph on the wall – four year old Kurt on his mother's lap, giggling as she tickles his belly.

"Blaine? Are you crying? If I did something and you're about to burst into some angry song at me, you gotta give me a chance to prepare. I'm just getting over some sort of laryngitis and I'm not at my best voice. Hold on." Blaine can hear Cooper clearing his throat and humming something that sounds vaguely like scales.

"Cooper, no. You didn't... Cooper!"

"What? Oh. What's wrong then, Squirt?"

"It's Kurt." Blaine's voice breaks over his name.

"Uh-oh, trouble in boy paradise."

"He's been kidnapped."

"Seriously? Is he famous enough for that? Because _you_ talk about him all the time, but I've never –"

"His dad is a Congressman, Coop."

"Huh. So politically famous. I can dig that. Oh my God, this is perfect! I have this audition next week, a pilot for the CW. It's a gritty cop drama about a psychic who helps the local PD solve a wave of missing persons related crimes. I, naturally, am trying out for the title role: Carl Young: Psychic Detective. They're hoping it'll be a great success with the much coveted 18-49 demographic."

"How does that... Cooper, please. I can't, not right now."

"No, Blaine, see – I can come to Lima and be your supportive brother and do some character research while I'm there. That way you don't have to feel guilty for taking up my precious time! And maybe I can help find your boyfriend with my psychic powers."

"Cooper, you don't have psychic powers –"

"No arguments, Blaine. It's no trouble at all. Really. I'm coming to be the brother you want me to be. And luckily I've been meeting with the head honchos so I'm not too far away. I'll book a flight asap."

"Coop –"

"See you soon, little bro."

And Blaine is left with dead air. During the mostly one-sided conversation with his brother he had absentmindedly wandered into Kurt's room out of habit and sat down on his bed. The bed is unmade, which is very odd for Kurt. Blaine lies amongst the bumps and folds of the duvet and buries his nose in the sheets. They smell like Kurt – his cleansers and moisturizers, but mostly they smell like his skin.

He sits up too quickly, his head swimming. He can't do this now; he can't lie around like a useless lump sniffing Kurt's sheets as if he is never again going to smell the actual Kurt. He gets up off the bed and straightens the sheets and blankets. When he moves Kurt's favourite pillow to tuck the sheets underneath, a multitude of crumpled tissues fall to the floor. Blaine sits back down on the bed and hugs Kurt's pillow to him. He is the cause, the reason for those tissues as well as the wrinkled fabric of Kurt's pillowcase which is very obviously the result of his dried tears. Blaine did that.

He curls up in the middle of the bed and waits.


	5. Chapter 5

Kurt is by nature a nonviolent person, but as they lumber through the woods at a steady pace, he thinks there is a good chance he would bludgeon anyone who stood between him and a drink of water. He glances over at Sebastian and sees that he, too, is swallowing unconsciously and licking at his dry lips. Kurt looks forward and wipes a hand across his sweaty brow. He feels more alert than he did before; the sugar must have helped, though the constant throbbing in his face has not abated.

"We should slow down," Sebastian says.

"I'm okay. Really. I think I just needed a sugar jolt."

But Sebastian stops anyway. He bends forward, hands on his knees. "If I could have one wish right now, it would be for a bottle of teeth-achingly cold French water."

"God, it only makes it worse if you think about it. Let alone say it out loud."

"Don't care. I'm getting pretty desperate. What about you? If there was a Genie here, what would you ask for?" Sebastian rights himself and stretches his arms up over his head before rolling his neck and shoulders.

"Besides getting the hell out of here, you mean?" Kurt asks and mops his sweaty brow once more. His poor blazer is basically ruined. He takes half a second to mourn its loss.

"Well, obviously."

Kurt stops and thinks, taking the question far more seriously than Sebastian likely intended. He thinks of his loved ones, no doubt completely panicked at home. His dad is strong and he has Carole for support now. But not Blaine. Who does Blaine have to support him but Kurt himself? "Blaine. I'd want to talk to Blaine. Even just for a moment."

"I could definitely think of something better to do with Blaine even just for a moment."

And Kurt wants to punch the smirk right off his face and knock out every one of his donkey teeth in the process."Watch your mouth, you disease-riddled pervert!"

"Oh, I'm only kidding. You know, trying to lighten the mood." He waves his hands about in a pantomime and Kurt glares at him. "I don't want your damn boyfriend, okay?"

"Really? Could have fooled me. What with all your stalking us at the Lima Bean."

"I'll admit that was why I was there in the beginning, but now I just really like the coffee."

Kurt scoffs and turns away. "We should keep going."

They walk this time instead of jogging. "You don't believe me," Sebastian says after a silent moment. "I really don't want Blaine. He was pretty and innocent and seemed kind of clueless, but –"

Kurt whirls around and stalks towards him, fists clenched. "You son of a bitch!"

"Hey!" Sebastian raises his hands as if in surrender. "I backed off, didn't I? Seriously, I was only after him because it seemed convenient at the time. And truthfully, I thought he'd be easy to convince. Especially after I met you."

"Oh right, because of my hard luck case of the gayface, right?" Kurt shakes his head. "And why the hell would it have been convenient? Since he was far away at another school he wouldn't know who else you were doing behind his back?"

"No, it was... nothing. Nevermind."

"Oh no. Seeing as it pertains to my boyfriend, I think I have a right to know!"

Sebastian heaves a sigh and kicks at a stone. "Because of my father, alright? He has spies. Spies at every school he sends me to. At my last school, in Texas, he –"

"Wait. You told Blaine your last school was in Paris."

Sebastian shuffles a little and fiddles with his Dalton tie, not making eye contact. "Yeah."

Kurt stops completely and turns to stare at him, forcing him to stop as well. "Paris, _Texas_? You told him you lived in France."

"No, I said Paris. He only assumed."

Kurt shakes his head and clucks his tongue. "You _let_ him assume."

"Like I said, he seemed kind of clueless."

"Just because someone is by nature an optimist and likes to see the good in people and is a genuinely good person themselves, it doesn't make them clueless. He can be a tad oblivious at times, but he is very intelligent and sweet. And if you say another bad word about him I will personally punch you directly in your pointy little face." Kurt pauses for breath and crosses his arms over his chest. The wind has picked up suddenly and the sun has left them, peeking behind a large, ominous looking cloud. "And Texas?" He glances over at Sebastian and is pleased to find that he looks embarrassed. "You are such a phony."

"Whatever. It's not like I had any choice in the matter. I've gone to schools all over the place: South Carolina, Washington, Texas, _Ohio_. But the situation is always the same. As soon as I make any sort of contact with another gay student, I'm outta there. It took me two schools before I figured out the faculty was spying for my father. When I confronted him about he said, 'how dare I make a mockery of him by practising my _lifestyle._ So, yeah, someone outside of Dalton seemed like a perfect solution. I tried that at my old school but there were... complications."

Sebastian looks small, huddled the way he is into his dirty blazer. And Kurt almost feels sorry for him. "If I wasn't still ready to kick you for what you said about my boyfriend, I would tell you that I'm sorry. That isn't fair."

"And I would say thank you."

"Alright then. We should get a move on. There seems to be some sort of clearing up ahead."

As soon as the last word is out of Kurt's mouth the first raindrop falls, startling him as it splats on the bridge of his nose. They pick up speed, trying to dodge the rain as it grows heavier and heavier by the second until it's a steady downpour. Kurt catches some in his cupped hands and slurps it up.

"Why are we bothering to rush? It's not like we can actually find –"

"Shelter," Kurt finishes for him. They've reached the clearing, where there is indeed shelter: a squat, oblong building with a sloping roof, caving in with age and disrepair. There are more embossed tin paintings at one end, covered in juggling clowns and other circus performers.

"It's a funhouse," Sebastian says.

They slump towards the entryway, the door rotted and lying on its side on the ground. "It's probably not safe," Kurt says.

"Fuck it, we're getting drenched." Sebastian pushes him inside. They stand in the doorway for a moment, catching and drinking as much of the rainwater as they can.

"I wish we had something to collect it in. It looks like it's only going to be a shower."

"Well that's good, because I don't think we should stick around here too long. Do those look like tire tracks to you? Because they do to me."

"_Shit_."

~0~

Blaine doesn't fall asleep. He drifts in and out of coherency, his mind flicking through images of Kurt. He wonders if he will ever see him again. He wonders if he could have saved him had he been on time for coffee. He hates himself for doubting everything and bringing up the possibility of going away for the summer out of fear. How did he ever think he could cut himself off from Kurt cold turkey – that it would be easier than one bittersweet summer before he was swallowed up by the big city and the uncertainty of the future? He could have kept it from happening if he hadn't been so weak. Such a coward. Again. Always.

He's pulled from his self-flagellation by raised voices in the hallway.

"Why are you even here, Santana?" _Finn_.

"I came to see him."

"He's fine – just resting right now. Kurt likes to be left alone when he's upset, so I thought –''

"That since they're both gay they're exactly the same person and deal with their crap in the same way. Yeah, yeah. Move it, Jiggles."

"That's not what I was gonna say! And why would he want to see _you_ anyway? It's not like you could actually, like, comfort anyone."

"Me and Blainers are tight, okay? And I'm here to help however I can, starting by not leaving him to wallow in Kurt's room, rolling around and crying in the contents of his underwear drawer or whatever he's up to in there."

"See, right there. He doesn't need your bitchiness. He's doing fine, okay?"

"No he's not! Look, he may be good at pretending, but he's _not_ okay. Put yourself in his shoes, Finn. Would you be okay? If someone snatched Rachel and you had no idea where she was or if you'd ever see her again?"

There is a beat of silence. Blaine wipes a shaking hand across his eyes.

"Right," Santana continues. "Because it's the same for him. They love each other and I guarantee that he's in hell right now, and you're leaving him all alone to fan the flames. So seeing as you don't have the balls to do something about that, step aside or I'll hurt you."

He hears her stomp into the room, her Cheerios' running shoes squeaking on the wood floor. The door snicks quietly shut behind her. "Come on, Blainers," she says. "We both know what you're doing and that it isn't helping anyone."

He surprises himself when he answers. "I'm not doing anything. That's the problem. There's nothing I _can_ do."

He feels the mattress sink down as she sits behind him. "I know this blows, Mini-Gay, and I'm really sorry. Everyone from glee club told me to tell you they're thinking of you guys and if you need anything to call them." He can sense her eye roll and he almost smiles. Almost. "Oh, and that dreadlocked J.C. freak and Quinn and Mercedes said they're praying for Kurt and even Sebastian. I told them Kurt would show 'em where to stick their prayers." Blaine does smile this time, but it falls away quickly. "Ha!" Santana crows and pokes him in the side. "I made you smile. Excuse me, I'll just be over here patting myself on the back."

"Thanks, Santana. For, you know, coming over. But there's nothing you can do. We're all just sitting around and waiting – useless. It's all useless."

"Now see, this is why I'm here, Blainers. I know I can't magically find him and save the day, but I _can_ get you to talk. Can't have you stewing in your juices. You gotta let that all out, not leave it festering until it explodes like a popped zit. Talk to me. Rage. Rant. Curse. Punch things. But don't just lie there like Finn in the sack. It's depressing and, frankly, Kurt would kick your curvy little tush for losing hope and especially for blaming yourself."

"I know he would. But I just... I don't know what else to do."

And Blaine finally loses his desperate grip on control. He breaks down completely, sobbing into Santana's shoulder, "I need to find him, I need to find him," over and over. She rocks him and tells him that everything will be alright. He really, really wants to believe her.

~0~

There had definitely been a vehicle there recently. Sebastian cranes his neck around the door frame and sure enough, he can see a beaten down pathway large enough for a single car to fit through. They must be looping back towards the tunnel where they had been brought in in the first place. He curses under his breath and turns to Kurt. "What now?"

Kurt is blinking owlishly at him, his almond shaped eyes wide and clear. They no longer look bleary from his concussion. "We'd probably better get out of here, even if we get soaked through to our skins. My outfit is already destroyed anyway." He lets out a melancholy sigh and Sebastian rolls his eyes. He hears him mumble some random name under his breath, likely a designer, before he steps out into the rain for a better look around. "Back!" he commands, pushing at Sebastian's shoulder and hustling them into the ramshackle building.

"What are you doing?" Sebastian is getting really sick of being manhandled.

"I saw Hideous Jacket out there. Come on!"

"You saw a hideous jacket? What? And we're running from it? Have you lost it completely?"

"No, just... be quiet!" Kurt whisper-scolds. "One of those neanderthals! He's out there."

And that's all Sebastian needs to hear and he's grabbing Kurt's sleeve and running into the pitch dark of the mouldering funhouse.

As they turn a corner, feeling along the walls which are soft, almost sooty under Sebastian's fingers, he catches a flash of something out of the corner of his eye. He turns his head quickly but it's gone. "Did you see that?" he whispers. His eyes are beginning to adjust to the minimal light and he grabs Kurt's arm and pulls him to a stop. He sees it again; a slight shift in the light.

"What are you talking about?" Sebastian can make out Kurt's face in the darkness now, his pale skin glowing against the black of the walls. There is a smear of dirt across his nose and his brow is furrowed in irritation.

"I keep seeing something. I don't know –" And he sees it again.

It's Kurt. Or rather, a reflection of him. It's wavy and distorted, the mirror old and deteriorating. It's strange. So strange. He walks across the expanse, seeing himself suddenly next to Kurt, again and again and again. "There's no time for this!" Kurt hisses. "We need to find somewhere to hide."

"It's a hall of mirrors," Sebastian says. "I've never been in one before."

A long line of distorted Kurt's roll their eyes in unison. "There is no time for your narcissism right now."

"_My_ narcissism? You were the one crying for a mirror earlier to examine your face. Take your pick, Vanity Smurf." Sebastian motions to the mirrors all around him and walks slowly down the hall, sliding his fingertips over the glass surface. His hand presses against the edge of one long mirror and it shifts. He jumps, his heart racing. "This one moves," he says. "Look."

Kurt comes up beside him and presses on it and it shifts again, one side popping out and turning. He grips the side and flips it outward. "It's like a little hiding spot. Maybe they had people in costumes jump out and scare the customers from here."

"Great, so let's hide in there."

"There's only room for one of us."

Sebastian looks into the enclosed space and back at Kurt. He should jump in there without a second thought. He should. He shouldn't care whether or not Kurt gets found by those idiots again; they were after him in the first place, not Sebastian. And by rights it's his spot, since he was the one who found it. "We probably shouldn't get separated," he says. It'll be easier to find the way home with two instead of one, he tells himself. That's the only reason he's not taking the spot. This perfect hiding spot. He shakes his head, the movement repeating over and over in the mirrors. "Let's go." He suddenly wants to be far away from these reflections of himself, showing his every weakness in twisted repetition.

When Sebastian steps forward and takes the corner away from the hall of mirrors, his foot slides against something and he loses his balance. He reaches out, trying to find some leverage, something to hold on to, but his hands slip uselessly against the glass of the mirrored wall. He hears Kurt say his name once and then he's down, the sound of smashing glass filling his ears and a sharp, stabbing pain searing through his left thigh.

He wraps his hands around his leg, sucking in a gasp of pain. He's sitting in a pool of broken mirrors, points of light reflecting back into his eyes. He hears Kurt curse and tell him they have to move, hide, but he just can't. He doesn't think he's physically able; he's in far too much pain. Kurt tugs him upward and away from the pile of glass. "I have an idea," he says. "Just hold on. I'll fix you up. I promise." And he's being pushed into the dark, the mirror suctioning shut around him. He pulls his hand away from his leg at last. And it's wet.


	6. Chapter 6

Blaine must have drifted into a fitful sleep at some point, because when he opens his eyes it is dark and gloomy in Kurt's room. Santana is behind him, wrapped around his body in a comforting embrace. "Is it night?" he slurs.

"Nah. Just raining." She opens her mouth and lets out a huge yawn just as the door opens roughly and bounces off the wall.

"Little brother!" Cooper sings. He places his pointer fingers on his temples and closes his eyes. "I _sense_ that you are in dire need of my brotherly wisdom and counsel!" He stops in the middle of the room and opens his eyes, the wide grin sliding from his face. He looks from Blaine to Santana and back again. "You are still gay, right?"

Blaine doesn't even have the energy to roll his eyes. "Of course I am, Coop," he says in resignation. He wishes his brother had stayed wherever he was, no matter how much of an ass he might be for thinking so.

"Okay. I just want to be sure I'm being the right kind of supportive." He smiles again and claps his hands together. "So... what are we doing?"

"We're... nothing. We're waiting. I..."

"Look, Blaine's hottie brother," Santana interrupts. "Don't come barging in here and getting him all worked up again when I just spent the last hour calming his cute little bubble butt down. If you're just gonna ask stupid questions, then get out."

"Santana, it's fine."

"Oh, do you want to do that thing?" Cooper asks. He points at himself and then at Blaine. "Where we sing angrily and then hug afterwards? That was good. Therapeutic."

Blaine sighs and rubs a hand over his sore eyes. "No Cooper. That won't be necessary."

"Well, maybe I should go talk to those cops out there, see if I can help out, get some great material to work with for my audition."

"Cooper, they're kind of busy."

"Yeah, trying to find _Kurt_. Sit your stupid yet handsome ass down on the bed," Santana says. She slides up against the headboard next to Blaine and pats the space on her other side. "And we can be calm and discuss non-triggering topics. Like the weather. And puppies. And breasts. Those should all be safe."

"Ooh, I like that last idea," Cooper says and gives Santana a wink.

"Guys, it's fine. I don't need to be coddled –"

"But do you need to be... cuddled?" Cooper leaps over Santana and grabs Blaine around the waist, pulling him down the mattress. He presses Blaine's head to his chest and makes a cooing noise.

Burt comes into the room and clears his throat and Blaine bolts upright, smoothing his hair and looking up at him guiltily. Burt gives him a little nod and rubs a hand across the back of his neck. "They got a lock on the van's plates. They checked out the guy's place who owns it, but there's nobody there. Also, some lady phoned in to the tip line from a farm outside town and said she saw the same van a handful of times over the last few days and they're following that lead." Blaine sits up straighter and widens his eyes. Could it be? Are they close to finding him? Burt looks down at him sadly. "Don't get your hopes up too much, kiddo, okay? Ruth says they get a lot of false leads from these sorts of calls. But I just wanted to let you know that _something_ is happening."

Blaine nods and swallows the lump in his throat. He's trying not to hope, but it's difficult. It's the first solid news they've had for hours. "Thanks for telling me."

"Of course, kid. I'll come right back up here if they hear anything else." He gives Santana and Cooper a grateful nod before heading back to the kitchen.

"That's good, right?" Cooper asks, squeezing Blaine's shoulder.

"God, I hope so. I need it to be."

~0~

Kurt heard a shout from outside as soon as Sebastian fell onto the broken mirrors. And now they were coming. Kurt only saw Hideous Jacket outside and not Old Spice, so he mentally crosses his fingers and hauls Sebastian up from the floor and stows him in behind the revolving mirror panel. He huddles in the dark and waits to be found.

It doesn't take long. Hideous Jacket has a flashlight and doesn't need to feel around, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the gloom. He also seems to know his way to the hall of mirrors; Kurt hears his steady gait coming towards them directly. He stands next to the secret room and takes a deep breath. At least there is just the one to deal with for the moment.

Hideous Jacket shines the light directly into Kurt's eyes and he flinches. Luckily he is forced to lower the beam to the the floor, as it ricochets off the mirrors behind Kurt and shines back into his own eyes. "Well, well. Thought you could get away from us did you, you little cocksucker? But I guess we outsmarted ya."

Kurt heaves a dramatic sigh and closes his eyes. He hooks one foot behind the mirror panel and opens it a tiny fraction before holding his hands out in front of him. "I guess you did," he says, trying to sound resigned. "Go ahead and tie me up. I'll come quietly this time."

Hideous Jacket huffs a laugh and slides a coil of rope from his shoulder. "Yes you will. And then you're gonna tell me where your schoolboy friend is, capice? Or else I'm gonna make you squeal. And not so as you'll enjoy it, you got it?"

Kurt lowers his eyes as well as his hands, only a fraction. Just enough that the man has to bend down slightly to see. As he leans forward to tie him up, Kurt slides his foot farther in behind the mirrored panel and just when Hideous Jacket's head is in the perfect spot, he kicks forward, smashing him in the face.

The glass shatters outward and he goes down with a howl of pain. Kurt takes advantage of his distraction to pick up a fallen section of the wall and clobber him over the top of the head. He stops howling. He stops moving. Kurt stands panting for a moment, then bends over to collect the rope and flashlight. He checks Hideous Jacket for a gun, but cannot find one on him anywhere. He does, however, find a bottle of water and he slides it into the back pocket of his jeans before going to fetch Sebastian from his hiding spot.

He's already sliding out from behind the panel, bending over with his hands clutching his injured leg. "You knocked him out?"

"Yeah," Kurt says. "No idea for how long. Let's get somewhere safe and I'll take a look at your leg."

"I don't know if I can walk."

Kurt turns on the flashlight and shines it over the wound on Sebastian's leg. There is a tear in his uniform pants and the medium grey is stained dark with his blood. In the centre of the mess is a section of the mirror poking out. He hides his cringe and flicks off the light. "Lean on me. And we've got to be careful. I have no idea where that other idiot is."

The rain has stopped. Kurt checks to be sure the coast is clear before stepping back out into the light of the day, Sebastian draped around his side. He is unwieldy, his lanky body a dead weight and Kurt is soon sweaty and panting as he drags him away from the funhouse. There is another dilapidated building just ahead that looks like a barn or a former petting zoo. Kurt heads in that direction, hoping that Hideous Jacket will be out long enough that he has time to fix up Sebastian's leg and they can get further into the forest. He glances down; the blood is flowing steadily from the wound and Sebastian's skin is looking wan. He tightens his hold on Sebastian's waist and pulls him upward, picking up speed.

They're almost there. Almost at the old barn. "Argh!" someone yells from behind. "There you are! Fairies!" Kurt curses under his breath, looking from side to side. It's the other one – Old Spice. The one who smashed him in the face. He lifts Sebastian off the ground and runs towards the barn.

"What are you doing?" Sebastian snaps.

"I'll think of something."

There is nothing inside the barn but the sickly smell of mould and an enormous hole in the roof. Kurt sets Sebastian down on the floor and takes a quick look around, forming a plan. "Stay right there, okay?" Kurt says.

"He's coming!" Sebastian whispers angrily.

"Trust me!" Kurt grabs a hold of an exposed beam in the wall and climbs up.

"You're insane!"

"And your head is the same width as your neck. Nobody's perfect." And Kurt swings up into the rafters, the rotten boards creaking under his weight.

~0~

Sebastian is trying desperately to ignore the pain coursing through his leg as he watches Kurt go all Spiderman in the rafters of the crumbling barn. He's going to bring the whole place down on top of them; the building creaks and groans as he hooks an arm and a leg around a board and dangles down. He motions with his head for Sebastian to look away from him, his eyebrows furrowed in irritation.

Neil rounds the corner, breath rasping out of him, his mask pulled up as he wipes sweat from his face. He blunders into the room and spots Sebastian immediately, pulling out his gun and pointing it at his head. Sebastian feels like live bait, bleeding on the floor to lure in the shark. He's going to kill Kurt if he ends up shot. Or haunt him.

"Looks like I got ya cornered," the shark says, showing all of his mossy teeth. "I'll go easy on ya if ya tell me where's yer little bum buddy is, alright preppy?"

Sebastian hears the ceiling creak again as Kurt moves and has to fight the urge to look up. He needs to distract the man so he doesn't either. "I don't know where he is. He took off and left me. Said I was only going to slow him down like this." He motions to his injured leg and Neil guffaws.

"And people tries to say you fairies is loyal. Horseshit!" He spits on the ground. "You just goes around fucking every man and spreading yer diseases and –"

There is a swooshing sound from above, and suddenly Kurt is there, tumbling on top of the man, his heavy boots knocking him upside the head and they're both falling to the ground. The gun goes skidding across the floor in the chaos and Kurt yells at Sebastian to grab it.

When Sebastian manages to retrieve the gun and pull himself over to where Kurt is, he has Neil lying on his stomach, his knee driven into the small of his back and the rope he had taken from Dwight wound tightly around his throat. Neil is blubbering nonsensically about not killing or screwing him and Kurt looks about ready to vomit. Sebastian almost wants to laugh. "Ugh, didn't I tell you earlier that I have taste, you disgusting troglodyte? Even touching you _this_ much is making me want to retch."

Kurt looks over his shoulder and meets Sebastian's eyes, nodding once. "Now, my acquaintance over here is going to hold you at gunpoint while I tie you up. I'll be sure to make the ropes extra tight and uncomfortable, seeing as you bruised my face and destroyed my favourite pair of Marc Jacobs jeans. Not to mention my blazer, which is worth more than your van and your entire wardrobe and probably your house."

Sebastian winces as a sharp pain tears through his leg. "We get it, Kurt. Just tie him up for fuck's sake. I'm bleeding to death over here."

"Right," Kurt says. "Sorry." An afterthought.

It only takes Kurt about ten minutes to tie him thoroughly, still on his belly with his limbs all reaching up behind him like the hog he is. He drags him over by the ropes and ties him to a wall plank to make it extra difficult for him to get away.

"Now," Kurt says, dusting off his hands on his ruined jeans. "I should really look at your leg. I'd like to get away in case the other one wakes up, but we've got that gun now if he does and he didn't have one on him."

He gets Sebastian situated in a patch of sunlight and props up his injured leg on his own. Sebastian hisses in pain and Kurt scrunches up his face. "There's still a piece of mirror in there," he says.

"No shit. I scraped the palm of my hand on it. Maybe we should leave it there and wait until –"

And then he is shrieking like a little girl and reaching for his leg. Kurt swats his hands away and tosses the shard of glass into the corner. "Give me your tie," he says. Sebastian only half hears him, so focused is he on the blood pumping steadily from his thigh. Kurt says something else, but when he is ignored he sighs and reaches up and around to unknot the tie himself. Sebastian watches as he wraps it around the top of his thigh above the wound and pulls it as tightly as he can, making a tourniquet. He winces in pain and Kurt pats him on the knee. "It should stop the blood. I'm gonna wrap the cut itself, too."

Sebastian is sweating profusely and breathing heavily. He can't remember being in this much pain since he broke his arm falling out of treehouse when he was seven. He can sense Kurt watching him but doesn't make eye contact. He doesn't want his damn knee pats or his pity. "Oh right!" Kurt says suddenly in a bright voice that is completely inappropriate considering the situation. "That other idiot had water on him." He pulls a bottle out of his back pocket and hands it over. Sebastian takes it greedily. He knows he should be disgusted that that slob's mouth has likely been all over the bottle, but he's too thirsty to care. He takes a big drink and chokes.

"Not water!" he gasps. "It's rum."

"I guess that explains his driving," Kurt says wryly. He takes the bottle from Sebastian's hands and studies it for a moment, taking a sniff of the contents and curling his lip. "Still useful, though," he says, and pours the entirety over the wound on Sebastian's thigh. He shrieks again.

"You fucker, that hurt!"

"You'll thank me when you don't get some sort of nasty fungus all up in there. Not that you aren't used to nasty fungi on your person."

"Funny," Sebastian says through gritted teeth.

"Okay, I need the bottom of your shirt," Kurt says. "Untuck it."

"Excuse me? What the fuck are you talking about?"

Kurt rolls his eyes. "You need a makeshift bandage, and I'm not using mine. It may be irreparably ruined but it still cost me $200. It's the principle of the thing. Yours is just a cheap oxford."

"Fine. Christ." He pulls his shirt out of his uniform pants and tries to tear it lengthways, but the seam is too thick. "Yours looks flimsier," he says, and fingers the collar of Kurt's shirt. He gets his hand slapped.

"Not a chance." Kurt huffs and look around for a second, then he is crawling on his hands and knees over to the corner. He comes back with the bloody shard of mirror he had pulled out of Sebastian's leg.

"You are not cutting my shirt with that. I don't trust you not to slash me open."

"Would you stop? If I wanted to slash you open I'd have done it a long time ago. Hold it away from you." Sebastian pulls the fabric away from his stomach and watches as Kurt cuts through the seam very intently. Once he gets it started he pulls, tearing the fabric straight across in the perfect line. He cuts the other seam and studies the piece of cotton before lifting up Sebastian's leg and winding it snugly around the wound.

"What are you fruits up to over there?" Neil shouts from the corner. "What're ya gonna do ta me? I swear, if you put yer dicks anywhere near my mouth, I'll bite those fuckers off."

Kurt actually gags and Sebastian has to bite back a laugh. "Shut the fuck up, Grizzly Adams, or Homo Rambo over here is going to kick your teeth in with his designer bitch boots. Got it?"

"Rambo?" Kurt asks, his nose scrunched up. "Really? He doesn't even enunciate." He checks his work on Sebastian's leg and, appearing satisfied, wipes his hands on what's left of Sebastian's oxford and stands, stretching out his back and arms. "Though I could totally rock that headband."

Sebastian twists his leg back and forth. Although it is still throbbing, it feels much better now that it is tightly wrapped and minus one shard of mirror.

"So what are we going to do about you, hmm?" Kurt is saying, walking towards the man in the corner. "Can't have you calling out to your buddy now, can we?" He leans over the man and removes his knitted mask and stuffs it into his mouth. "If you spit it out and make any noise while we're still in hearing distance, I will come back and smack you in the face with your gun. I wonder where I got that idea, huh?" He sounds vicious and unlike himself. Sebastian smiles. Kurt pushes the man's head down roughly and walks back over to Sebastian. "Shall we?" he says, and offers a hand.


	7. Chapter 7

~0~

It's way past dinner time and Burt knows he hasn't eaten anything all day, but it takes Carole a good fifteen minutes to convince Blaine to come down to the kitchen. Burt watches him as he pushes his grilled chicken salad around his plate, taking little nibbles like a rabbit. He knows how Kurt feels, suddenly, having to watch and make sure someone else is eating like they should, though for very different reasons. He wants to tell the kid that it'll all be okay. He takes a drink of his decaf instead. He's not shirking his healthy diet just because his boy's not watching over him. He doesn't want Kurt to have any reason to carry on at him when he gets home. Burt clunks his mug down on the tabletop and sighs. Blaine pushes a carrot around with his fork and takes a sip of water.

Ruth rushes up to them then with an officer he hasn't seen before trailing behind her. Burt and Blaine sit up in their seats. "Burt, we got something," she says. She looks nervously over at Blaine before she speaks again. "It's sort of... delicate information." She eyes Blaine again and gives Burt a significant look.

"That kid is my family. He can stay," Burt tells her. Besides, he figures, if it's as important as she's making it out to be, he's pretty sure he needs the moral support just as much as Blaine's gonna.

"We followed the lead about the van. There's an old road in the forest there across from the lady's farm that leads to an abandoned amusement park, Funland Forest. It closed in the early '60s when amusement parks went out of fashion."

"Yeah, my dad told me about it. Kids used to party out there. What did you find?" Burt feels Blaine shift impatiently next to him and he reaches out and pats the back of his hand.

"Well, there's tire tracks. And we found rope. Looks like someone may have been tied up in a tunnel. They were long gone from there, but the ropes were cut, like they escaped on their own."

Blaine sucks in a breath next to him and Burt clutches his hand. "Where'd they go?"

"Well, when the officers followed the tracks left by the van, they found some other structures in the area. We found... blood in one of them. Quite a lot."

Blaine's hand is shaking under his. Burt clutches it tighter, squeezing his fingers as he hears him let out a strangled gasp. "I'm sorry," Ruth says. "I know this is hard. I just need to know... It seemed quickest to ask – not for the investigation, but for your own peace of mind – do you know Kurt's blood type?"

Burt's heart sinks into his stomach and he has to remind himself to breathe. This is his worst nightmare – every parent's worst nightmare – to be asked a question like that by a police officer. He shakes his head. He doesn't remember. Especially not right now. "I can... It's in the baby book. I can check. Katherine, his mother, she –"

"It's O negative," Blaine says, his voice watery. "Universal donor. I went with him to give blood when he turned eighteen a few weeks ago. They said he was a universal donor. That's their favourite blood type. They made him promise to come back in three months time." Burt looks over at him – his voice is shaking nearly as much as his tiny frame, made even smaller by how he's hunched in on himself. Burt never realized before how much smaller the kid is than Kurt. And he's always figured Kurt is tiny. He slings an arm around his shoulders and pulls him to his side.

Ruth smiles. "That's good news," she says. "It wasn't his." Burt and Blaine exhale in unison and Burt hears Blaine sniff. He pats him on the back.

A shrill ringing comes from the pocket of Ruth's jacket and she grabs for her cell. "What is it?" she answers gruffly. Burt watches as her eyes grow wide and a bit of a smile turn up the corners of her mouth. "Thanks, Mody. Keep looking then. Perfect."

Burt's heart is racing at a dangerous speed as she snaps her phone shut and meets his eyes. "They found one of the men," she says. "He'd been hogtied and left in an old barn. We haven't found the boys or the other man and the van is gone, but they found a piece of broken mirror covered in the same blood and it's got a few perfect prints on it. Got anything that would have Kurt's prints and no one else's?"

"His Dior serum," Blaine says, just as Burt is saying, "That expensive face crap."

"He doesn't let anyone near that expensive face crap," Burt tells her.

He looks over at Blaine and they both try to smile.

~0~

Blaine had expected that when Santana left to go visit Brittany she wouldn't be coming back, so he's very surprised to find her lazing on Kurt's bed eating pizza when he heads back upstairs after the new police officer finished asking questions and collecting a few of Kurt's possessions.

"I could tell some serious shit was goin' down so I let myself in," she says.

Blaine settles in next to her and she rubs a hand along his forearm. She offers him a slice of pizza but he shakes his head. "They found some stuff," he tells her, his voice quiet. He doesn't want to say it aloud. It frightens him. He feels like a child, and has ever since Officer Myers had given Burt that look, wanting him to send Blaine off to the kids' table while they talked of important matters. _That kid is my family_. Blaine sucks in a breath. _That kid is my family_. God, he wants to stay strong for Burt. He wants to stay strong for _Kurt_. He needs to stop acting like a child. "They traced the van to some place called Fun Forest or something..."

Santana sits up straight and drops her slice of pizza back into the box. "Funland Forest?"

"Yeah. You know it?"

"Damn. Yeah. Hiked back there once with a bunch of friends and got toasted. It's sort of a right of passage around here. Or it was, until the cops busted it up a couple summers ago. What did they find?"

Blaine stares down at his hands, his fingers twined around each other, knuckles turning white with the force of his grip. He breathes deeply before meeting Santana's eyes. "They found ropes that had been cut. And... blood. Not Kurt's, but very possibly Sebastian's. It _is_ possible that it belongs to one of the kidnappers, though. They found one of them... he was tied up and left in a building. Officer Myers seems to think it was Kurt and Sebastian that may have tied him."

Santana smiles. "That is so damn awesome."

"I hope so," Blaine says. "It was the only the one, and they haven't gotten him to talk yet. The other man has disappeared along with the van. The police think..." Blaine rubs his hands together, focusing on anything besides her pitying look as his voice cracks. "They think he may have taken them somewhere else."

"But they don't know?"

Blaine shakes his head. "They aren't telling us much else. I don't even think Officer Myers was supposed to tell us as much as she did."

"So, what? Now we just wait and hope they spill?"

Blaine jumps off the bed and begins pacing back and forth, his hands clamped to the top of his head, fingers tearing into his hair. He can't do that. Not again. Not when next time the blood... next time the blood they find might belong to Kurt. "I can't," he hears himself say. "I can't just sit here doing nothing."

Santana stops his pacing, standing in front of him with her arms crossed over her chest and one hip cocked. "So we do something."

"What?"

"Oh... I've got me some ideas. I've just been waiting for you to crack, Sassafrass." She pulls her cell phone out from down the front of her uniform top and presses a single key before lifting it to her ear. "Puckerman? It's on: Code Rainbows. I told you it would be before nightfall; you owes me a twenty and dinner at Breadstix. Yep. See ya soon."

Blaine is staring at her with his mouth hanging open. "What?" She slips her phone back down her top and pops a stick of gum into her mouth. "Puck loves you guys. Now... we need to be sure we avoid any obstacles."

"Obstacles?"

"Well, we don't wanna be accused of interfering with a police investigation or anything, right? And Papa Bear's not gonna want to let you too far outta his sight. Hmm..." She looks around at all four walls of Kurt's bedroom as if visualizing her escape. "Where'd Zoolander go?"

"Who?"

"That pretty idiot who shares your DNA."

"Oh, Cooper. Um... he went home to shower and change and call his agent or something. Said he'd be back."

Santana nods, snapping her gum. "Too bad. He would have made a good distraction. Anyway... What's the quietest way to sneak outta this joint?"

"There's an apple tree right outside the window. It's easy to climb."

She gives him a wolfish grin. "And I wonder how it is you know that. Naughty gays." She makes a tsking noise and blows a bubble. "I'm gonna need a change of clothes," she says. "Good thing sweet little Prancey owns a lot of camouflage."

For the first time since that morning Blaine feels the tiniest bit better.

When they're both dressed in clothing of Kurt's that Blaine is pretty sure he won't care if they ruin – both looking ridiculous since Kurt is larger than they are – they open the window and slink down the apple tree.

Puck is waiting just around the corner, his truck idling next to the sidewalk. Santana opens the door and scooches in, Blaine following after her. Puck gives him a nod. "Where to, kids?" he asks.

"Funland Forest," Santana tells him. She blows another bubble and snaps her seatbelt on.

"No shit?"

"We'll explain on the way."

~0~

It feels like they've been walking for hours. Between the breaks they've been forced to take due to Sebastian's injury and Kurt's inability to shoulder his weight for too long at a stretch and the ever darkening twilight, Kurt is beginning to think they're going to be spending the night at the Hotel Pinecones. He certainly never expected he would some day be spending a night in the company of Sebastian Smythe, be it in a real or fictional hotel, let alone the fact that his main reason for wanting to escape said night is due to his desire to keep Sebastian alive, and not the fact that he has killed him and needs to go on the lam. But as the time passes and they stumble through the woods with nothing but snack food and no water, Sebastian grows ever paler and Kurt is worried. He needs serious medical attention and soon.

Sebastian is becoming increasingly heavy again and Kurt is finding it difficult hold him upright. He stumbles and Sebastian stands up, leaning away from his body. "Sorry," he gasps. "I'll try and walk on my own."

"No, no," Kurt tells him. "You're hurt. It's okay. I just need to sit for a minute." There is a tree on its side that he can make out through the gloom and he helps Sebastian over to rest on it. Only it's not a tree at all.

"Who just leaves a Ferris wheel to rot in the middle of a forest?" Sebastian says, running one hand over a nearby seat that has grown into the tall grass around it. "It's weird, right? This whole place."

"It would be kinda cool if not for the armed gorillas trying to catch us. And, you know, if I wasn't here with you."

Sebastian grins at him. "Love how you tacked that on there. Truly 100% believable."

Kurt rolls his eyes and takes a packet of Bits n Bites out of his pocket. He tears it open and offers some to Sebastian. "Yes, because I simply adore spending the day with you, tromping through the woods and getting smacked in the face with guns and enjoying your glittering personality on top of it all. My perfect Monday."

"All lies. I think you're developing a soft spot for me, Hummel."

"In your dreams, Meerkat."

Sebastian laughs. "In yours, I think," he says, and his body sways to one side. He rights himself and closes his eyes.

"How bad is it really?" Kurt asks.

"If I get gangrene in my leg or something, shoot me with that gun, alright? I'd rather be dead than deformed."

"Too late for that," Kurt says in a wry tone. Sebastian is even paler. It's getting worryingly dark and Kurt curses himself again for losing the flashlight during his scuffle in the barn. It will soon be difficult to navigate. He's not a freaking astronomer, so the stars won't do him any good, no matter how pretty they are out here in the middle of nowhere. "Come on, Quasimodo. Let's keep going. There are some paths around here we can follow."

"Why are there paths all of a sudden?" Sebastian asks, trying to look suave as he clambers off of the side of the toppled Ferris wheel. "Did we miss them before?"

"I don't think so," Kurt tells him. He walks closer, offering his shoulder, which Sebastian leans on with a world-weary sigh and a roll of his eyes. "Kids have been coming out here for years to drink and get high. They made the paths. The paths are good news. They mean we're getting close to a way out."

And it makes some sort of cosmic sense that these paths seem to meander all over the place with no rhyme nor reason, seeing as they were made by intoxicated teenagers and all. When they come to a definite fork Kurt takes a breath and wipes the beads of sweat from his upper lip. "Which way should we go?" Sebastian asks.

"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood..." Kurt mutters.

"So we're basing our decisions on eighth grade poetry lessons now?"

"Definitely not. We are going to do the opposite of dear old Mr. Frost and take the one that's been beaten down by years of drunken buffoonery." He leads Sebastian to the left, hoping he's choosing right.

They walk in silence, the only sounds are made by the wind through the poplars and the various skittish animals that they frighten away out of their hiding spots. Twilight has finally come, the sky turning indigo and the moon rising over the trees, a sliver away from full.

"It wasn't true," Sebastian says quietly out of nowhere. "What you said."

Kurt thinks back on the day. He has no clue as to what Sebastian is referring. He's said so many things, really. He always does. "What thing I said?"

"How I don't care about anyone but myself."

Kurt widens his eyes and stops for a moment, redistributing the weight of Sebastian's arm over his shoulder. "Really. Colour me intrigued. You've already slagged off both your mother and your father, so who could it be?"

Sebastian huffs in annoyance and Kurt regrets being so flippant. He obviously wants to talk, but Kurt doesn't really know how to deal with this Sebastian. He's not even sure if he prefers him. He's a little unnerving if truth be told. "No one," he says. "Nevermind. None of your business anyway."

Kurt shrugs and glances away. "You brought it up."

Silence descends again, but now it's awkward. Kurt sighs.

"It's just..." Sebastian starts. "Well, even if those primates don't catch up with us, we're going to die of thirst or starvation or blood loss and head injuries while we try to trudge our way through this godforsaken forest anyway. And I keep thinking – I guess I'm really never going to see him again."

"Him, huh?" Kurt nudges Sebastian lightly in the side. "So there _is_ a boy."

Even in the dim light of the moon Kurt can make out his eyes rolling. "There are a lot of boys, Kurt."

Kurt doesn't buy it for a moment. "I mean one that matters, you idiot. Not a quickie in the restroom at Scandals."

"Forget it," Sebastian says. He sounds like himself again and a part of Kurt is secretly glad. As the silence descends once more, Kurt hears something in the distance. A quiet trickle.

Sebastian has started grumbling about something under his breath and Kurt shushes him. "Do you hear that?" he whispers, as if the sound of his voice might make it disappear, like a frightened rabbit or a squirrel.

"What?" Sebastian snaps. "The approach of our imminent deaths?"

Kurt pokes him in the shoulder. "No. Water. Come on!"

Even Sebastian is willing to pick up speed at the promise of something to drink. "I suppose it makes sense for you to have superhuman hearing. Seeing as you _are_ all bitch."

And Kurt can't even be bothered to snark back at him. Because there is a beautiful, moonlit, gurgling stream. A beautiful, moonlit gurgling stream of clear, cool _water_.


	8. Chapter 8

~0~

Puck drives them out to the middle of nowhere before pulling off on the side of the road.

"The best entrance by the farm you mentioned is swarming with cops. I drove by here earlier and I thought it was a drug bust or something," he says to Santana. "I've been in this way before, but it's gonna be damn near impossible to find our way in the dark." His phone rings then, cutting off his speech before Blaine has the chance to tell him that he doesn't care how impossible it seems. He needs to find Kurt, and it's getting darker by the minute, the sky an inky purple shot through with glowing beams of silvery moonlight.

"I see you coming now," Puck says into his cell. The headlights of another vehicle flick down to low beams and it slows, pulling over in front of Puck's truck. It's a light coloured Volvo hatchback. The interior lights flicker to life and Blaine can make out several people within. After a moment the car goes dark and all four doors pop open simultaneously. Tina, Mike, Brittany and Sugar slide out into the cool night.

Santana turns to Blaine and raises an eyebrow. "Time to assemble the troops, Nick Fury," she says. When Blaine gives her an odd look she shrugs her shoulders. "What? I did date Trouty Mouth for a whole five minutes. Some of his geek was bound to rub off on me."

When he and Santana join the others, Brittany and Sugar rush over and hug him from either side. "Hey, Cute'nItty," Sugar says. She pets his hair and scrunches up her nose. "Even though missing person searches are carried out by people with way less money and style than me, I thought I would come and help look for your boyfriend. His poor couture, out in the wilderness! My daddy even let me borrow his super high-powered flashlights that he has for his hobby of treasure hunting, and not because he is in the mafia and needs to bury bodies in undisclosed locations."

"I...um... thanks, Sugar. I appreciate your help."

Blaine feels a hand snake up around the back of his neck and start rubbing circles behind his left ear. He turns to find Brittany smiling at him. "Acupressure," she tells him, her eyes wide and serious. "It'll relax you." And surprisingly, it sort of does. Blaine leans into her touch as Mike and Tina give him somber hellos. Tina's eyes are red-rimmed and Mike is cuddling her to his side.

"So what's our game plan?" Mike asks.

Blaine has no idea. He had one thought on leaving the Hummels' house: Find Kurt. How to go about that? He has no idea. He looks to Santana, hoping she has some clue, seeing as she knows the area much better than he does, that is to say, at all. She gives him a blank look and shrugs her shoulders. Blaine heaves a sigh of relief when Puck speaks up from the back of the group.

"Well, like I was telling Blaine and Santana – going into the woods right now will be pretty hard. There are some trails leading in from here, but they're pretty old and we might not find them too well in the dark, even with flashlights."

"Well, maybe a few of us can go in and the rest of us kinda form a perimeter in case they make their way out? Also, in case some of us get lost and need to be rescued."

They all nod around the circle and look to Blaine for the okay. Blaine has no idea. He needs them to take charge. He doesn't want to be Nick Fury. Tina gives him a sad smile. "What do we know? Are the police already in the woods searching?"

"I don't know," Blaine tells them. "They seem to think one of the kidnappers have moved them to a new location, but I have no idea if they've given up on this area entirely. Puck said there are police near the other entrance, the one the kidnappers were using to come and go. They've found evidence that they may have escaped, though. Cut ropes and one of the kidnappers was tied up and left. I think they're wrong about them being moved."

"Yeah," Mike says. "It sounds like the second guy took off because they got away."

"I think so, too," Blaine says. Mike gives him a nod and pats him on the shoulder.

"Okay," Britt says brightly. She withdraws her hand and Blaine is a little sad at its loss. "I'll go into the woods. I can read directions by the stars and I've got my guide cat in Mike's car."

"She totally can," Santana tells him, looking proudly at her girlfriend. Brittany links their pinkies together and smiles shyly at her feet. "But you can't go alone, Britts."

"I'll go with her," Mike says. "I was a Boy Scout."

Tina snorts and and tries to turn it into a cough. "Okay, Mike Chang!" Brittany says and bounds over to the car. She opens the door and begins cooing, leaning over and emerging with an enormous cat on a leash.

The group watches as she holds a tasselled scarf up to the cat's face and whispers at it to have a good smell. "Did you get it, Lord Tubbington?" she asks, patting the cat on the top of his head. He looks up at her with a irritated expression and meows. "Good boy," she coos and places him on the ground. She shoves the scarf into the pocket of her coat and looks over. "He has Kurt's scent now. We'll find him."

Mike gives Blaine a pointed look before turning in her direction. "We'll head due North," he says. "If any of you follow after, go East."

Just as they reach the edge of the trees, a new set of headlights shine at them from behind Puck's truck. "I didn't call anyone else," Puck says. A car with rental plates pulls to a stop and the engine turns off.

Cooper steps out, looking angry. "Blaine, what the hell? You couldn't have told me you were forming a search party? I came here to help you!"

"Cooper, look – Wait, how did you even know...?"

"From me." Coach Sylvester steps out of the passenger side door, decked out in a camouflage tracksuit and utility belt. "We still talk from time to time. And when Brittany called me, knowing I used to work for Search and Rescue during my summers in Florida, I contacted your brother right away, Tom Thumb. We want to help you look for sweet, sweet Porcelain. And God knows the cops in this town are as useless and teats on a Mexican Horned Lizard."

"I...um... thank you, Coach Sylvester. I really, really –"

"Yeah, yeah. Save your thanks for after we find Porcelain. And call me Coach Sue," she adds, hooking a compass and a water bottle onto her utility belt before turning to Cooper. "You ready to brave the wild there, handsome?"

"In the woods?" Cooper looks startled. "I don't know... that is, my speciality isn't really..."

She pulls him over towards the forest by the arm. He gives Blaine one desperate look over his shoulder before deciding to go quietly. "We're going North, Coach!" Brittany hollers.

"Gotcha, kid!" Sue yells back.

"Me and Tina are going East," Puck says. He hands Blaine an enormous flashlight and another smaller one to Santana. "You three stay here and spread out along the perimeter. Maybe they'll come out on their own."

Blaine watches them disappear into the trees, the beams from their own flashlights bobbing as they walk over the uneven ground. He sighs and looks up at the stars, wondering if Kurt is doing the same, somewhere in amongst those trees. "I know first aid," Sugar tells him. He smiles sadly at her and throws an arm around her shoulders.

~0~

Kurt helps Sebastian down by the side of the stream, sitting him on a patch of mossy ground with his injured leg sticking straight out and resting on a fallen tree. He rinses out the previously rum-filled bottle and dips it in the water, filling it to the brim before handing it to Sebastian.

He leans over the bank and cups his hands, drinking deeply for a long moment. Sebastian has downed his entire bottle and Kurt takes it from his hand and fills it once more before passing it back. "This water is probably polluted as all get out and I could not care less," he says and leans over to slurp some more water out of his hands. "We can deal with the E. coli later." He looks over at Sebastian's frowning face and sits back up. He's staring at Kurt, holding the bottle aloft and gnawing on his bottom lip. He nudges Kurt in the shoulder with the bottle, motioning with his head for him to take it. Kurt pushes it back towards him. "Drink up. You'll never be able to frolic with your large-toothed forest friends in your current state of dehydration."

"You're hilarious," Sebastian replies, but there is none of the usual nastiness in his tone.

"Well, you know what they say: All the world's a stage." Kurt leans back over and gathers more water in his hands.

"Marcus," Sebastian says, a whisper nearly drowned out by the gurgling of the stream.

Kurt sits back on his heels and looks over at him, an eyebrow raised in question.

"His name is Marcus." He tips back the bottle and finishes off his water, picking at the label and avoiding Kurt's eyes. He looks sad in a way Kurt has never seen, has never expected to see, and he feels a tightening in his chest. Is Marcus Sebastian's Blaine? Is he just as desperate to get out and find this boy, to see him and wrap his arms around him and smell his neck? Because if he feels even half as desperate for this Marcus as Kurt feels for Blaine... Kurt stops himself from thinking about it. He needs to keep Blaine locked in a vault in his mind right now, or he will break down and lose it completely.

"Sebastian – we're not going starve or die of thirst. I know I don't look like a boy scout –"

"Nah, you look more like a girl scout."

Kurt furrows his brow and raises the volume of his voice. "But I'm gonna get us out of this by the power of my will and Hummel stubbornness alone. It's quite legendary, you know."

"I believe it."

Kurt throws him a wry, crooked smile. "Because I love Blaine. And my dad. And Carole. Even Finn and Rachel. So, no. We are _not_ dying here. It has been decreed."

Sebastian nods his head, smiling down at the bottle in his hands. He places it in the stream and refills it and Kurt pulls out a packet of candy from his pocket. They eat it in silence, passing the bottle of water back and forth.

"He goes to my old school," Sebastian says after several long moments.

"Oh yeah? The one in _Texas_?"

"Shut up. And yes. A professor caught us making out and a few days later..."

"Your dad pulled you out."

"Yep. And then Dalton," Sebastian says sadly.

"I'm sorry," Kurt tells him. And he is. He says a silent thanks to the universe or fate or nature or whomever is responsible for his having Burt Hummel as a father.

"Me too," Sebastian answers. He pops the last Wine Gum into his mouth and shifts, wincing in pain as he repositions his leg.

Kurt stares down into the stream, the bright moon reflecting back at him. A blossom blows off a tree from above and lands in the water, rippling the moon's reflection. Kurt fishes it out and holds it to his nose; it doesn't smell like anything. He glances over at Sebastian to find he is watching. "Japanese cherry blossoms," Kurt says.

"What?"

"You asked me before... I must have been dreaming. Blaine – he uses this body wash. That's what he smells like. Japanese cherry blossoms."

Sebastian gives him an odd look, almost calculating, before leaning over and refilling the bottle with water once more. "Let's drink some more of this bug-infested swamp water, shall we? Then we can find our way out of here so you can be reunited with your little Japanese cherry blossom."

"Shut up," Kurt says without bite. He gives Sebastian a dirty look, but he just grins at him. "You should really stop smirking like that. It's giving you wrinkles," Kurt tells him.

~0~

Sebastian feels increasingly weak as they go, but he tries to keep his head up and his breathing even so Kurt doesn't try to get him to stop again. He wants out. Their conversation at the stream has only reinforced that for him. His Dalton tie is looser than it was – stretched and slipping down his thigh. This he also keeps from Kurt. He doesn't want him playing nursemaid here in the dark. He needs someone who is actually qualified. He is quietly terrified that he is bleeding again. His head feels light. So light.

Kurt slows and squints in the darkness, making sure they haven't strayed from the faint pathways. He curses and turns in a circle, running his hands through his once impeccably styled hair. Sebastian feels detached watching him – like his obvious fear and frustration has no bearing on him at all. Only it does. It affects everything.

"I can't see it!" Kurt exclaims. He gets down on his hands and knees and crawls around, looking at the forest floor. Sebastian laughs a little and sways; there are a million and one jokes he could make with Kurt in that position. Instead he stumbles and falls to his knees. He's so damn dizzy all of a sudden.

"Sebastian!" He hears Kurt's voice, feels his big, soft hands on his face. He is unsurprised by the softness of Kurt's hands. There are so many jokes he could make about that, too.

"Sebastian!"

"Sebastian!"

The sound is going in and out, faint and strong and faint again. It sounds like a whole group of people shouting his name. He tries to shake his head. He tries to speak. And something is stinging his cheek now. It's not soft anymore.

It's Kurt. He's being slapped by Kurt. "You had better be breathing, Smythe, because there is no way I am giving you mouth to mouth, manwhore." He sounds upset. Sebastian laughs and gets another slap for his trouble.

His head spins as Kurt pushes him half into sitting position, sitting behind him to hold him upright. He doesn't even remember lying down. Kurt presses the water bottle to his lips and tells him to drink. "Come on, Sebastian," he says quietly, seemingly more to himself than anything.

Sebastian sips at the water, closing his eyes and breathing deeply before sipping again. Kurt repeats himself and Sebastian tries to be glib. "It's so sweet that you care."

"I suppose I'm gonna have to drag your flat ass out of here now, am I?"

Sebastian laughs. He's happy to have a reason. "You totally checked me out," he sing-songs.

"But seriously, we're almost there. Come on."

"M'tryin'. It's just that I think I'm running out of blood."

"What? Are you bleeding again?" Kurt snaps.

Sebastian shrugs; mid-way through he's falling to the ground as Kurt drops him and shuffles around to check his leg. "Shit, the tourniquet. Why didn't you say anything?"

Sebastian winces and tries to stifle a cry as Kurt tightens the tie around his leg again. "Dammit, you _are_ bleeding again! How long has it been..." Kurt's rant peters off and when Sebastian starts to answer, he holds out a hand to silence him. "Did you hear that?"

"What? More water?"

Kurt shakes his head and climbs slowly to his feet. He's listening very intently, his head cocked to one side like a curious puppy. After a long, silent moment he lets out a disappointed sigh. "I thought I heard voices," he says. "It sounded almost like..." He sighs again and drops back to his knees. "Nevermind."

"Must be your brain damage."

"Must be." Kurt gives him a shaky smile and removes his blazer. He stares down at the white dress shirt underneath with a look of pure despondency, then very quickly unbuttons the bottom few buttons and tears it straight across and around until he is left with a tattered shirt and a long white strip of cloth.

He goes to work carefully removing the old bandage and replacing it with this new one, sighing and muttering under his breath about irreplaceable vintage McQueen. "If it slips again, tell me, okay?" he says. His voice is quiet and his eyes soft and for the first time Sebastian realizes there is a very real chance that he might bleed to death before they get out of this forest.

"I owe you a shirt," he says quietly back.

"Don't worry about –"

He may not have the ears of a prize bitch, but this time Sebastian hears it too: people talking, calling out to one another. The voices are not familiar to him, but Kurt's eyes fill with tears and he jumps to his feet, grabbing his blazer – he recognizes them. That much is certain.

"Coach!" he yells. "Cooper!" But the voices are no longer there. "Shit!" Kurt yells for Coach Cooper again and again but gets no response.

"Come on, Grandma," Sebastian says. "Quit babying me and let's get going. Maybe we can catch up with them."

Kurt hauls him to his feet and practically lifts him, shouldering his weight and begins speed walking in the direction from which the voices had come.

"Jesus, you don't have to carry me," Sebastian tells him, but he is ignored. Kurt is on a mission now. He sees a light at the end of the tunnel and he's going for it. And fuck if he isn't freakishly strong. "I think I may have underestimated you, Kurt Hummel."

"People usually do," Kurt answers, and he picks up speed.


	9. Chapter 9

~0~

Puck and Tina have come back already and Blaine can hear Mike and Brittany in the trees not far from where he is currently pacing. He's beginning to give up hope – it's too dark for them to see and they've found nothing to suggest that Kurt is anywhere nearby or has been at any point.

He hears raised voices down the road a bit, where Puck has gone to talk with Santana, likely to have her convince Blaine to give up this futile search, at least until dawn. At first Blaine assumes the commotion is just Cooper and Coach Sylvester returning as well, but then Puck shouts, "Holy shit!" and Blaine sees it – a mutated looking figure emerging from the shadows of the ditch. It splits into two in the beam of Puck's flashlight, one taller and slender, and the other... perfect. _Kurt_.

Blaine takes off at a run, arriving just in time to watch as Sebastian collapses, his legs giving out from under him. Kurt curses and falls to his knees beside him, slapping his face and coaxing him to stay awake.

"Call an ambulance!" Kurt yells at Santana. She pulls out her phone and fumbles with the keys, looking shocked and uncharacteristically unsure of herself. "What did I say!" Kurt hollers at Sebastian, slapping his cheek again with a loud, echoing smack. Sebastian's eyes pop open. "Breathe," Kurt tells him.

"Right," Sebastian says with a half-cough, half-chuckle. "Because if I stop you're not giving me mouth to mouth."

"You're damn right I'm not. And neither is anyone else here." He flings his arms out and waves them around wildly. Blaine doesn't know what to do or say. Kurt seems manic. He wants to pull him to his feet and hold him and never let go. He knows he should call Burt and the police, but he can't bring himself to do anything but stand there and stare at the back of Kurt's head.

Puck has leaned down next to them and he's helping Sebastian into sitting position. "What the fuck happened to him?" he asks Kurt.

"He sliced open his leg," Kurt says. He turns back to Sebastian. "You just had to fall on a pile of fifty year old mirrors, didn't you? You're in for a lifetime's worth of bad luck, starting with the round of twenty tetanus shots you're gonna need."

"S'alright. I'm used to having stuff shot into my ass," Sebastian says and grins. "Ha! Gay sex joke!"

Kurt snorts. "I like you better when you're all passing out and bloodless. You're a lot more fun."

"The ambulance is on its way," Santana says, coming towards the group again and stuffing her phone back into the pocket of her borrowed hoodie.

"Awesome," Sebastian says. He coughs again and grabs at his leg with a hiss of pain.

Kurt slaps his hands away and takes Puck's flashlight, checking the wound. "Don't touch it! Let's get him somewhere that isn't the ground," Kurt mutters and he takes one of Sebastian's arms while Puck grabs his other side. Blaine walks behind them with Santana.

"He's in shock," she says. Blaine doesn't quite know what to say to that. He feels like he is in shock himself, but Kurt hasn't even taken notice of him, hasn't even looked for him. He can't help it if that stings.

The others have come running and when they see that Sebastian is injured, Mike sprints back to open the hatch of his car. Puck and Kurt settle Sebastian in there, elevating his leg with a rolled up blanket. Tina opens two bottles of water and hands one to each of them.

Kurt drinks deeply, chugging the entire bottle, his eyes fixed on Sebastian as he fumbles and spills water down his chin. His eyes keep drifting closed and his grip on the bottle slips. Kurt reaches out and snatches it from the air before it can fall to the ground. He brings it back up and holds it to Sebastian's lips.

"You just want an excuse to touch me," Sebastian accuses with a smirk. Kurt snorts.

"Yes, because I'm just dying to catch one of the myriad STDs you're likely crawling with."

"You know that's all a bunch of bullshit, right?"

"Yep. I figured."

Sebastian nods his head and closes his eyes. "Okay," he says.

"Don't pass out!" Kurt exclaims again. "Does anyone have any sugar?"

Brittany pops over and hands him a pixie stick after tearing it open with her teeth. "Perfect. Thanks, Britt," he says. Sebastian sucks on it without complaint, but his eyes don't stop drooping and Kurt shakes his arm. "Where is that goddamn ambulance!"

"I know, right?" Sebastian says. "Go kick someone's ass for me, would ya, Gay Rambo who enunciates?"

Kurt laughs at this and pats Sebastian on the shoulder. It's like some sort of Twilight Zone. Blaine looks over at Santana and she bugs out her eyes and shrugs. "Traumatized," she whispers. "Has to be."

"Hey, Kurt," Blaine hears Sebastian say then, his voice at a whisper, his eyes fixed on Blaine. Blaine sees a small smile turns up the corners of his lips before Kurt leans in and blocks him from view. "Japanese cherry blossoms," he says.

"What?"

"Behind you."

Kurt sucks in a breath, his back tensing. He turns slowly and looks up, finally meeting Blaine's hungry gaze. His eyes are wide and his lips red and chapped, his hair is a disaster and there is an angry looking bruise covering about a quarter of his face. Blaine has never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

He straightens, graceful as always, even when filthy and in tattered clothes. Blaine swallows audibly as he approaches and tries to bite back his tears.

And then he is there, his arms around Blaine's waist and his face buried in the side of his neck. Blaine pulls him as close as he can get him, running his hands over his shoulders and back and arms and hips – everywhere he can reach. "You're all right," he whispers into Kurt's hair. "You're all right."

~0~

Kurt has never in his life smelled anything more soothing than the skin on the underside of Blaine's jaw. He slips his nose down a little farther and runs it along the side of his neck and up behind his ear, and that's pretty amazing, too.

Blaine keeps repeating _you're all right_ and _I love you_ and _I missed you so much_, but Kurt can't seem to get his words out. He just clings and smells and feels and tries to relax in his favourite space against Blaine's chest, in the circle of his arms. He vaguely hears Puck say his dad's name and something about finding them. He hears Brittany asking Sebastian if he wants another pixie stick. All he can do is hold onto Blaine and wait. He's not even sure what it is he's waiting for.

It takes Blaine's frantic and whispered apologies to finally knock him out of his daze. He keeps repeating that he's sorry and he shouldn't have been late, and why would he even consider being away from Kurt for any length of time when he can help it. _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry_. But he has nothing to be sorry for.

Kurt pulls back and looks into his big, gorgeous, tear-filled eyes. "Hey, hey." He holds both of Blaine's upper arms in his hands. "It's not your fault. You couldn't have done anything, Blaine. You would only have been taken with me if you'd been there, and I could _never_ want that. Okay? It's all right now. I'm here. I'm okay. Everything is fine."

Blaine lifts his hand up and runs his fingers gently over the tender bruise on Kurt's cheekbone. "They hurt you," he whispers, his voice cracking.

Kurt smiles sadly. "Well, you know me – can't keep my mouth shut even when it's in my best interest."

"He got a little bitchy with the guys who grabbed us and one of them hit him with his gun," Sebastian says from behind them.

"They had guns?" Blaine asks, his eyes somehow larger and rounder than they were before. He looks petrified. Kurt pets his hair.

"Totally worth it, though," Sebastian continues. "That was a pretty sick burn."

"Of course it was. All of my burns are _sick_. Have you met me?" Kurt says, trying to lighten the mood and maybe make Blaine smile. Instead he only looks on, confused, as Sebastian laughs.

"Besides," Sebastian says to Blaine. "Shiners are hot, right?" Blaine almost smiles then, and brushes his fingers over Kurt's injured eye.

When they hear sirens a moment later, Kurt is hoping for the ambulance. Sebastian is swaying where he sits, his skin pale and waxy in the overhead light of Mike's car. Kurt pulls himself away from Blaine to check on him. As he steps towards the car he feels Blaine come with him, his fingers reaching out to tangle through the belt loops of Kurt's jeans. He looks over but Blaine doesn't meet his eyes. His face is red and he is staring at his shoes. Kurt inches closer to him but says nothing.

The siren, it turns out, belong to a police car and not the promised ambulance at all. It shudders to a halt next to their group and the siren and lights cut out. A policeman gets out of the passenger door and immediately opens the back. And then Kurt's dad is there, rushing over and grabbing him and pulling him into his arms. Kurt clings to him, nestling into his flannel-clad shoulder. He smells like home and comfort and Kurt breathes a sigh of relief as a sense of peace finally washes over him. He has them both now. Everything is going to be okay. That's when he remembers Blaine's fingers hooked in his belt loops. Had he let go, or had he been mistakenly pushed away? Kurt looks over his father's shoulder to see Blaine watching them, trying to smile.

Carole, it seems, has been kept waiting too long and steals Kurt away from his dad then and pulls him into her soft embrace. Finn latches on to his back and they rock him until he's dizzy. "We were all so worried about you, dude," Finn says. "Glad you're back."

Kurt nods at him and smiles as he extricates himself from their arms. He steps back over next to Blaine and waits for him to surreptitiously wind his fingers back into the belt loops of Kurt's jeans before going to check on Sebastian.

Another officer, a woman, is already checking him over. "Did you fix him up?" she asks, looking up at Kurt with kind eyes.

He nods. "With what I had. Not a lot, unfortunately. Though I did clean the wound out with rum before wrapping it."

"You had rum?" Puck asks.

"Yes, Puck, it was a wild party," Kurt answers without looking in his direction. The officer smiles.

"I was just speaking with dispatch and the ambulance should be here any minute," she tells Sebastian, patting his uninjured leg. She looks back up at Kurt. "And what about you? Should we call you an ambulance as well?"

"No. I'm perfectly fine."

"He is not," Sebastian says and Kurt throws him a glare. He only grins in return. "He has a concussion. Don't listen to him."

Blaine's fingers tighten in his belt loops as the officer shines a pen light in Kurt's eyes. "I can ride to the hospital with Blaine," Kurt says, not just to her but to the assembled company. He feels as though he is on stage and under a spotlight, and for the first time he is not enjoying it in the slightest.

"So, kid," the officer says once she's finished checking him over and seems to be appeased. "Tell me, did you tie up Neil Wakeman?"

"That filthy pig in the barn? Yeah, that was me. Oh, right, here's his gun." Kurt pulls it out of his belt and hands it to her. She takes it with the tips of her fingers and passes it off to her partner.

"The guys on the scene were pretty impressed with your knot work,"she says.

Kurt preens a little and hears Blaine let out a short huff of a laugh next to him. "Did he choke on the gag?" Kurt asks a tad viciously. The officer shakes her head. "Too bad. He hit me in the face you know. And look at the state of me!" He motions to his ripped shirt, dirty blazer and stained jeans. "This blazer _was_ a Vivienne Westwood."

She looks at him with wide eyes and her mouth hanging open in confusion. This look, of course, is one Kurt is quite familiar with. He hears his father laughing behind him, a full-on rumbling laugh straight from his gut. He turns just as his father's breath hitches, his laughter choking him and turning into something else. He reaches out and grabs Kurt around the shoulders and pulls him against his chest, crying openly in a way that Kurt can't recall ever hearing him cry, not even when Kurt's mother had died years before.

"Oh, Dad, I'm okay," Kurt reassures. His dad just keeps whispering _my boy_ and Kurt can't help but get a little choked up himself. He kisses his father on the cheek and tells him he loves him. He doesn't let go until Burt has calmed down. He is soon whisked away by a teary Carole and Kurt lets himself fall against Blaine's warm, solid weight.

The ambulance finally arrives for Sebastian just as Coach Sylvester and Cooper emerge from the woods, Cooper looking a lot worse for wear. He grins at Kurt and Blaine and pats them both on the shoulder. "You see, Sue! I told you I had a vision that they were here!"

"I'm sure you did, Dionne Warwick," she answers, before turning her head abruptly and nodding at Kurt. "Porcelain. It's good to know you're alright, seeing as you're one of the only students in the school who I don't want to punch in the face every time they pass me in the hallway."

"High praise indeed, Coach. Thanks for coming to look for me," Kurt says. She gives him a small smile before going to speak with Burt.

Kurt shuffles over to where the EMTs are checking Sebastian over under the watchful eye of the police officer. They load him on a gurney and he turns to look at Kurt over his shoulder. "See you around, queer ninja."

"Yeah, see ya. Run along and have a nice, relaxing blood transfusion."

"Will do!" Sebastian calls out. His waving hand is the last thing Kurt sees before they close the ambulance doors and are gone.

"Are you and him kinda friends now?" Finn asks, sounding confused.

"God, no," Kurt answers, but he is smiling.

~0~

Puck ends up going along with Mike, and Santana and Brittany catch a ride with Cooper and Coach Sylvester so that Finn can drive Kurt and Blaine to the hospital in Puck's truck. Kurt protests about the police escort, but he gives up pretty quickly at the look on Burt's face. Officers Myers and Wilcox tell Kurt it's better to get a statement from him while everything is still fresh, so they'll be waiting after he has been cleared by hospital staff.

Blaine doesn't let go of Kurt the entire time he is saying thank you and goodbye to their friends and promising Puck that they can and will have a wild celebration as soon as he is feeling better. Blaine knows he is being clingy, but Kurt doesn't seem to mind and that's all he really cares about.

Finn babbles all the way to the hospital and for that Blaine is glad. It gives him time to gather his thoughts and time to hold onto Kurt, who he has to keep waking, his head lolling on Blaine's shoulder. Sebastian had said Kurt has a concussion and Blaine knows he isn't supposed to sleep, no matter how guilty he feels for keeping him awake after all he has been through. He's got to be both emotionally and physically exhausted.

At the hospital Carole manages to score Kurt a pair of bright green scrubs so he can change out of his dirty, ruined clothing, the state of which seems to be upsetting him far more than the events of the day. He keeps muttering about vintage McQueen and how he can't believe he committed such utter blasphemy for Sebastian of all people. Blaine would find it funny if he was possible of finding an ounce of humour in anything at the moment, and he should be, really, because Kurt is fine and right next to him, tying the draw string on the scrub pants and sighing at his own reflection, and he is utterly adorable and so, so beloved. But then Blaine looks into his eyes and all he can see is the massive bruise and he wants to hurt the man who put it there. Blaine wraps an arm around Kurt's waist and draws him in.

"You look pretty good in scrubs, you know," he says, trying to lighten his own mood. Kurt needs him right now; it isn't the time to mope and fantasize about punching people. "Maybe you should rethink your future career and become a doctor instead."

Kurt quirks up one side of his mouth in a little smirk, his dimple flashing for a split second. He fiddles with the edge of the scrub top and looks at his reflection. "These things? They make me look like a blob. And this colour completely washes out my skin tone." He turns to one side and then the other, considering, one hand on his hip. "Scrubs are not nearly as flattering as _Grey's Anatomy_ would have us believe."

And Blaine does smile then, because Kurt is just so _Kurt_. He pulls him in again, his arm tight around his waist. He doesn't want to be away from Kurt, to not be touching him, not even for a moment. He realizes that this may get in the way of, well, living both of their lives, but he can't bring himself to care. Nothing he will ever do could possibly be more important anyway.

"I will totally steal these, though," Kurt says, catching Blaine's eye in the mirror, "if you think you might like to play doctor."

Before Blaine has a chance to answer – _yes, God yes_ – there is a knock on the exam room door and they leave the small bathroom to find the doctor entering the room, followed closely by Burt and Carole. Under normal circumstances Blaine would likely let go of Kurt right about now and allow at least a foot of space between their bodies. He presses his fingers into Kurt's hipbone and looks down at his shoes. He doesn't want Burt to be upset with him, but he just can't.

It turns out that Sebastian was right about Kurt's having a concussion. The doctor gives him strict instructions to come in immediately if he should have trouble seeing or remembering anything or if he feels dizzy, and then he is discharged.

Officers Myers and Wilcox are waiting to talk with Kurt in the nurses' lounge where Carole set them up with coffee and snacks, but Kurt seems antsy as they start in that direction. He pulls Blaine over to the side of the corridor. "I want to go check on Sebastian first," he whispers.

Burt and Carole have stopped up ahead and turned around with dual questioning looks on their faces. "What's up, kid?" Burt asks.

Blaine looks at Kurt and back at them. "He wants to check on Sebastian before..." Blaine doesn't want to mention what's about to happen. He can't put it into words and truthfully, he wishes that Kurt didn't have to either.

"I'll go see what I can find out," Carole says. "And maybe once you've talked to the police you'll be able to see him for yourself, okay?"

Kurt looks unsure, his eyes flickering between Carole's sweet, reassuring smile and his father's furrowed brow. Blaine can see Burt's worry written very blatantly all over his face – does Kurt not want to relive it all over again right away? Maybe it should wait until tomorrow, or even next week –

"Buddy, if you don't wanna do this right now, I can go tell 'em. They can come by another time."

"No, Dad, it's fine. I don't mind. In fact, I want to get it over with. I really am just worried about Sebastian."

"The kid who a few months ago you told me if you got charged with murderin' I'd never get re-elected?" Kurt snorts a laugh and Burt shakes his head. "You're somethin' else, kid."

"I'll go and see what information I can winkle out of Bess," Carole says with a wink and heads off in the other direction.

Kurt clasps Blaine's hand in his and holds his head up high. "Let's do this," he says, and Burt leads the way.

It's difficult, hearing Kurt recount the events of the day. But Kurt's voice never once hitches, his gaze never wavers, the palm of his hand does not become clammy where it is pressed against Blaine's. When Officer Myers tells him he will have to come in and identify the men his eyes are steely and determined. He nods his head and shakes their hands and stays strong and courageous and perfect.

It is well past midnight by the time Kurt has finished giving his statement and Burt begins to hint that they should all be getting home. Finn has been and gone with Rachel in tow and has left Kurt's Navigator in place of Puck's small truck. But although Carole had come back with good news of Sebastian's prognosis – he is fine and in a recovery room – Kurt is still adamant that he see him before leaving the hospital.

Carole grudgingly gives them Sebastian's room number and they go off in the direction of the elevators. Blaine catches Burt's slightly panicked gaze as they walk away and feels terrible – though they have caught the men who took Kurt, they still do not know who was behind it all or why. Burt had never received the second call from the man who must have realized that his plans had all gone south and that he should probably do the same. He was very likely far, far away by now.

Sebastian is in a large single room on the top floor. The door is ajar and they can see him in his hospital bed, looking to be a much healthier colour than he had while he was being loaded into the ambulance. He looks peaceful – his eyes closed and fluttering in his sleep.

Kurt retracts the hand he had lifted to knock on the door and looks over at Blaine. He nods once and gives him a small, relieved smile. Sebastian seems fine and he is reassured enough to meet the others and finally go home.

Just as they clasp hands and are about to turn away, a woman crosses from the other side of the room. She is tall and slender with long, brown hair and an angular yet pretty face. She has very obviously been crying – her dark eyes are rimmed with red and she is clutching a balled up tissue as she paces next to Sebastian's bed.

Sebastian shifts and grimaces and the woman flutters her hands around him as though she has no idea what to do. Her face crumples when he stills and his expression slackens and she drops down next to him, hovering over his body.

"My baby," she says, her voice thick with tears. "I'll fix it. I'll fix it, I promise." She runs a hand over Sebastian's forehead, pushing back his hair and leans down to press a kiss there.

Blaine feels a tug on his arm and looks up at Kurt. He motions with his head that they should leave and surreptitiously wipes the back of his hand across his eyes.


	10. Chapter 10

Okay, this is the last one. Thanks for reading, guys! Feedback would be much appreciated! :)

~0~

The drive home is quiet – Carole behind the wheel and Burt riding shotgun with Kurt and Blaine snuggled together in the back. Through his closed eyelids Kurt can see the glow of the streetlights as they fly past, and even without seeing him he knows that Blaine is watching him – his eyes large and unblinking.

He lets his own eyes flutter open, though he is tired and the doctor said it would be okay to sleep. He needs to see for himself, to watch as he is being watched. He has gone too long without the thrill of Blaine's loving gaze.

And he was right – wide amber eyes are intent upon his face, as he knew they would be. He lets out a soft sigh and Blaine runs his fingertips gently around his eye. "Sleep," he whispers. "Sleep now. You're safe. I love you. I won't let anyone take you again."

Kurt's eyes drift closed once more and he snuggles in closer, resting his head against Blaine's chest, the beat of his heart steady and hypnotic, the scent of him light and fresh and _home_. He feels lips press against his hair. He feels hands grip his hip and thigh. He lets out a breath and takes in another. _Tha-thump. Tha-thump. Tha-thump._ Everything feels fuzzy and soft and he's never been so comfortable. "Love you," he breathes out. _Tha-thump. Tha-thump. Tha-thump. _He takes another breath in.

...

Kurt is disoriented when he wakes. He recognizes the familiar surroundings of his room and the familiar warmth and rhythm of Blaine, who is curled protectively around his body. He can hear crickets chirping outside and a slight breeze blows through the open window. He shivers and huddles closer to Blaine, whose arms tighten around him unconsciously. His face is throbbing again and he wants another pill and a drink of water, but Blaine is so lovely and warm and he is loathe to move. So he doesn't, letting himself he lulled to sleep once more.

...

He's lying in a moonlit field, a cool breeze ruffling his hair, the dew from the grass dampening his clothes and the pungent aroma of wildflowers filling the air. He takes a deep breath and looks up at the moon – large and golden and looming ominously above. He's not meant to be here. He doesn't know where _here_ even is.

"Please be real," he hears – a pained whisper.

He looks around but he can't find whoever spoke."Who's there?"

"Please."

He sees no one, yet he can feel hands caressing him, lips against his eyelids, like he is being worshipped by a spectre.

"Please be here."

"Where are you? Where are you? I'm sorry," Kurt replies. The voice is so sad. He feels compelled to make everything better. He has to. "I can't see you. I'm sorry."

The soft, plump lips find his own and he comes back to himself, opening his eyes to find Blaine hovering over him. He isn't wet or cold or alone. "Please be real," Blaine whispers again, his voice breaking, his tears dripping onto Kurt's cheek and running down over his chin.

When Blaine's lips ghost across his again, Kurt presses upward and kisses back and whispers Blaine's name against his mouth. Blaine lets out a shuddering breath. "I was so scared, Kurt. I need you. I need you."

"I know. I know, shh, I'm here." Kurt shifts Blaine onto his back and rolls over him, pressing his weight into the mattress. Blaine's legs fall open, instinctive, and Kurt lies in the cradle of his hips, bending over to capture his mouth. He lets his hands wander as he kisses Blaine, simple presses of lips turning into open mouths and roving tongues and sucking and biting and gasps. The buttons on the pyjama top take no time to undo, and Kurt sits back to allow Blaine enough space to remove it and toss it to the side. Kurt runs his hands over the newly exposed skin, rubbing circles into Blaine's sides and thumbing at his nipples and raking his fingers through his dark chest hair.

Blaine's eyes are still regarding him so tenderly; he still looks so fragile. Kurt leans forward and touches his lips to the side of Blaine's neck. "Perfect," he whispers. "You're so perfect."

"No," Blaine whispers back. "No. _You_." Kurt smiles against Blaine's throat and flicks out his tongue. It's a game they play. One neither of them will ever win or lose. Blaine begins rucking up Kurt's own shirt and so Kurt peels it off and flings it towards the side table, realizing it is one of his own and not the scrub top he was wearing on the drive home. Blaine must have changed him into his own clothes.

"You changed my clothes?"

Blaine stops kissing Kurt's chest and looks up. "Yeah. Don't you remember? I got you into the shower too." Kurt shakes his head and runs his hands through Blaine's unruly curls with a smile. Blaine's eyes flick up towards his hair and he lets out a little laugh. "It's a mess, I know. I guess it makes sense that you weren't really awake, you were stumbling all over the place so I had to get in with you. I really hope your dad didn't notice. I was surprised he didn't say anything about my coming in here to sleep with you. But I just... I couldn't _not_."

"Oh, sweetie, I'm pretty sure my dad knows he'd need a hammer and a chisel to pry you away from me right now." Blaine lowers his eyes and goes still, his wandering hands stopping and shaking slightly where they rest.

"I'm being clingy," he says.

"No. Oh, honey, no. Don't let go of me. Don't let go of me ever." And he means it. When Blaine's glassy eyes meet his again, Kurt surges forward and takes his lips, sucking the plump bottom one into his mouth. Blaine moans against him, his hands wandering once more and pulling at Kurt's hips, bringing him down until they are flush with Blaine's. They both let out a gasp when their hard cocks brush together.

"Blaine," Kurt says. He is asking permission more than anything else, but it comes out high and breathy and without a questioning tone. Blaine answers anyway, pushing his hips up to meet Kurt's and rocking up against him with a low moan.

When Kurt sits up and crawls off of Blaine, Blaine reaches after him, groaning despondently. Kurt quickly shimmies out of his pyjama bottoms and grabs at the waistband of Blaine's. He lifts his hips and Kurt pulls them down his thighs and Blaine pushes them off the rest of the way with his feet.

"Fuck you're beautiful," Kurt says. He didn't mean to even say it aloud, but God, he just i_is/i_. Blaine is reaching out for him, begging with his eyes for Kurt to come back, to touch him. He clambers over Blaine's leg and stretches out over top of him, almost overbalancing in his haste. And it feels so damn good, the slide of skin against skin, the way Blaine's arm wraps around him, one hand pressing into the small of his back while the other threads through his hair and gently pulls him down until their lips meet.

Blaine cants his hips upward and Kurt moans as the silky skin of his cock glides against Kurt's. He rocks back, working against him, finding a rhythm with the motion of Blaine's desperate thrusts. "I need you, need you, need you," Blaine keeps gasping into Kurt's skin, the warmth of his breath making Kurt shudder and pitch forward erratically. His cock slides down over Blaine's balls and perineum and into the cleft of his ass. Blaine moans loudly and presses forward, then up and down, rubbing his ass over Kurt's erection.

"Oh, Blaine, _oh_," Kurt groans. He wants to say so much else – you're perfect and you feel so good and I adore you with every fibre of my being – but it's all he can manage as Blaine continues to rub himself against Kurt's cock, reaching down to take his own in hand, jerking it slowly as he watches Kurt's expression.

The sweaty slide is overwhelming, but still not enough, never enough. Kurt leans back only slightly and cups his hands around the muscular curves of Blaine's ass and presses in on both sides, tightening him around Kurt's cock. Blaine gasps and pushes forward as Kurt ruts against him, a long, breathy sound leaving his mouth.

Kurt feels a familiar tightening at the pit of his stomach and a tingling sensation in his balls. "Fuck me, Kurt, _oh God_," Blaine gasps and Kurt wants to say that's he's sorry or that there isn't time, but then he's coming, spurting hot and slick between the cheeks of Blaine's round ass, and all he can do is pant and shudder.

"Oh my... _God_," Blaine moans a moment later, and Kurt opens his eyes just in time to see him throw his head back against the pillow, his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth hanging open as he jerks and twitches and come splatters all over his bare chest.

"God I love you," Kurt pants and Blaine cracks open one eye. He gives Kurt a dopey smile and lets go of his dick, bringing his messy hand up to eye level and scrunching his nose up at it. "Sorry, we made a bit of a mess of you," Kurt says and Blaine lets out a breathy laugh.

"Worth it," he rasps. "So worth it."

...

The next time Kurt wakes up his stomach is rumbling and achy. He peels Blaine off of his chest, his crazy hair tickling Kurt's shoulder as he settles down next to him on the bed and mumbles something incoherent before scratching his nose and rolling over onto his front. Kurt smiles fondly and rubs one hand across his bare back and slips out of bed. Blaine needs his sleep, and Kurt would love to tumble back into dreamland with him, but he has to get something to eat before his stomach begins to devour itself. He dresses quietly in comfy sweats and presses a kiss to Blaine's curls before tiptoeing out of the room.

His dad is all alone in the kitchen, standing over the island nibbling on a piece of toast, his hand wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee. "Hey, bud. What are you doin' up already?"

Kurt's stomach answers for him, letting out a loud growl, and his dad laughs. "Guess that hospital food last night didn't really do the trick, huh? I'll make you some eggs."

Kurt smiles at him and goes to the fridge to pour himself a glass of juice. He passes his dad the carton of eggs and grabs his bottle of painkillers from the table where someone had tossed them the night before. "My head is pounding," Kurt complains and his father nods.

"The doctor said it would for a few days. You make sure you tell me if it gets bad, though, Kurt. I mean it!" He points the spatula threateningly and Kurt raises his hands in surrender.

"I will, Dad, geez. Relax. Dizzy spells, bad headaches, memory loss... I'll let you know."

"Don't you go tryin' to be a cowboy about it, got it? We're all here for you."

"I know, Dad. And thanks. I know how hard yesterday must have been for you –"

"No you don't, Kurt. And by God, I hope you never, ever have to." His dad has got tears in his eyes again and he turns away, wiping at them with the heel of his palm. "I'm just glad Blaine and your friends were there when you guys came out of them woods. Though he gave me a fright when I found your room empty and the window wide open, let me tell you."

"Blaine snuck out the window?"

"Yeah. Probably figured I wouldn't want him takin' off looking for you. Probably figured right. That poor kid; he was losin' his mind here yesterday, worrying about you. He really loves you, Kurt."

Kurt looks down into his glass, watching the pulp swirl around in his juice and swallowing the lump in his throat. "I know he does. I really love him, too. God, he still is, you know?"

"Still is what?"

"Freaking out. I'm doing okay. Yesterday was horrible, but I'm okay now that I'm home. Those idiots were ignorant and disgusting and tragically stupid, but I never really panicked. I knew what I had to do the entire time. But Blaine – he's just... I think he's afraid I'm going to get snatched again or something. I think he's traumatized."

Burt nods his head and gets down a plate from the cupboard for Kurt's eggs. "We were all scared, kiddo."

"I know. I just wish I could do something to make it better. Thanks for letting him stay with me last night. It helps."

"I get where he's coming from, you know? I almost lost you too, Kurt. Do you think I don't wanna get Dan down at the shop to make me some sorta sidecar thing that'll clip to my belt so I can pull you around with me everywhere? Cause damn, I'm tempted."

Kurt shakes his head fondly. "Dad, that is the weirdest thing you have ever come up with. And I had to sit through an entire year of your Casserole Surprise before I learned how to use the oven properly."

Burt snorts a laugh and fills up the plate with scrambled eggs. Toast pops and he reaches for it and motions with his head for Kurt to take a seat on one of the kitchen stools. "So," he says, once he's set out Kurt's breakfast and he's begun to dig in. "I got some news early this morning from Ruth Myers. They caught the other guy and they finally got them to talk. The man in charge – he was tryin' to secure my vote on somethin', don't know what. He was makin' plans to kidnap loved ones of a couple other Congressmen, so you really mucked up his plans, kid. They didn't find him yet, but they know who he is. It's good, kid. And I have to say, I'm real sorry, Kurt. They took you because of me, and –" His voice breaks then and he presses a hand over his eyes. "I'm sorry."

Kurt abandons his breakfast and slides off the stool to come around to the other side of the island. He reaches over and hugs his dad, his fingers clutching at the soft flannel of his shirt. "It's not your fault, Dad. Don't you dare go and blame yourself, okay? I'm proud of you. I'm so glad a great man like you is out there, trying to change things. It means so much. Okay? It wasn't your fault."

He feels his dad nod against his shoulder and he clears his throat and wipes at his eyes as they separate. "You're a smart boy," he says. "Guess I did somethin' right."

"I guess you did," Kurt says and preens, making his dad laugh.

"I'm real proud of you, kid. Ruth says you saved that Smythe kid's life."

Kurt opens his mouth to answer just as he hears his name being frantically called from the top of the stairs. "Blaine –" he begins to call back, and then Blaine is there, rushing into the kitchen with his tousled hair and wide, frightened eyes and his bed sheet – Oh, God. He is wearing Kurt's bed sheet.

"There you are," he says, wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist. "The window was open and I..."

"The window was open all night, honey. It's okay." Kurt soothes him for a moment, avoiding his father's gaze. "Blaine," he whispers. "Are you wearing anything under that?"

Blaine pulls back and looks down at himself, his face reddening. "Your dad is behind me, isn't he?"

Before Kurt can nod Burt lets out a chuckle and Blaine's blush creeps down his neck and spreads over the top of his exposed chest. "Let's get you back to my room," Kurt suggests, and herds Blaine backwards towards the stairs.

~0~

A week later Blaine is still staying with the Hummels. Cooper ran some sort of interference with his parents for them to agree to his current living situation, but he has no idea what it was. He owes his brother, though, and he's going to find some way to repay him. He would probably be going crazy if he had to spend a single night without Kurt pressed up against him, and though he is surprised there has been no objection from Kurt's parents on their end – especially after his big naked freak out on the first morning – he is very, very grateful. Though when he wakes up on the seventh morning and Kurt tells him they're going out for coffee, he wonders whether Kurt is getting sick of him and is trying to find the most traumatizing way possible to send him away.

"The Lima Bean, Kurt? Are you sure you're ready for that?" Because Blaine is 1000% sure that he is not.

"Of course. It'll be fine. I can't make a proper mocha here and I've been craving one for days."

So of course Kurt gets his way, as is usual, and they drive together in Kurt's Navigator. When he pulls into the nearly empty parking lot, Blaine has to close his eyes and breathe and try not to remember the chaos that had been present there the last morning when he had arrived. Kurt parks in his usual spot and Blaine has to bite back a protest. If Kurt can do this then _he_ certainly can. Kurt is the one who went through a trauma here. Kurt is the one who has reason to be having flashbacks and near-panic attacks. Kurt is the one who is currently humming _And_ _All That Jazz_ under his breath and smiling out at the clear blue sky and big, fluffy clouds. _Kurt_.

Blaine watches him incredulously for a moment before unhooking his seatbelt and following him out of the car, latching onto him as soon as he rounds it, their 'No PDA in Lima' rule be damned. He hustles Kurt in through the doors of the Lima Bean, his eyes flicking to and fro the entire time, checking for anyone unsavoury. Blaine knows he's just on this side of crazy, but he can't really help himself. Kurt looks down at him and smiles a little sadly; he has not been subtle in the least and Kurt would know anyway, because he is Kurt and he knows the crazy ways in which Blaine's mind works. Blaine unwraps his arms from around Kurt's body and hooks one finger through the belt loop of his jeans. Kurt leans over as if to kiss him on the cheek, but breathes _love you_ into his ear instead before straightening and leading the way to the counter.

There is a new barista who doesn't know their regular order by heart, so they ask for their coffees and Kurt orders them a cookie to split with a flutter of eyelashes in Blaine's direction that makes his breath catch. Beautiful, brave Kurt, standing there so strong as though nothing bad had ever happened.

"How are you so brave?" he asks, once the barista has gone to make their drinks.

Kurt slides a hand up and down Blaine's arm, the one that is attached to him by the belt loops. "You're here, too," he says.

"I don't _want_ to be," Blaine says, wanting to punch himself for how whiny and petulant he sounds.

But Kurt smiles and lifts a hand to finger at one errant curl that keeps escaping the hold of the gel and slipping onto Blaine's forehead. "Well, neither do I, not really. I'm just a better actor than you are." He sticks out his tongue playfully and Blaine smiles and lets his tired, overly-watchful eyes fall closed for a moment. Everything is so backwards; Kurt comforting him with his dry humour when it's Blaine who should be doing the comforting. But that is the way between them. Kurt is always better at dealing with difficult things. "You know," he continues, "I might be forced to believe that dubious acting runs in your family, if I hadn't seen you is _West Side Story_."

And Blaine actually laughs this time, wishing he could lean forward and kiss his boyfriend then and there. But even if he is ignoring the no PDA rule, he's not going to go that far. He looks at Kurt and of course he just knows, can read it in Blaine's eyes. One side of his mouth quirks up. "Guess we'll be taking our coffee to go, huh?"

Blaine grins at him and shrugs and Kurt laughs a little, turning to take their cups from the barista. Blaine takes the cookie off the plate and snaps it in two, biting his half and shoving the other into Kurt's mouth. "Hey!" Kurt exclaims, muffled and indignant and Blaine really laughs then, deep and joyful and straight from his gut.

On the way to the door, Kurt changes direction, making a beeline for the tables back by the washrooms, taking Blaine with him. Blaine is confused at first, trying to hurriedly chew and swallow his bite of cookie and ask what's going on. But then he spots Sebastian sitting quietly with a book open in front of him, sipping at a cup of coffee.

Kurt smiles at Sebastian and he nods in return and it's still so strange to Blaine. They haven't really talked about it, this strange new tentative friendship between the two of them, even after Kurt had sought out Sebastian's number and sent him a few text messages to check up on him over the past week. He supposes that being through something like they were together would make just about anyone friends. And yet... No... it's still weird.

"How's the brain injury? I see your shiner's still looking super hot there, Rambo."

Kurt lets out a huff of a laugh. "Oh, you know, not too bad. Headaches are finally gone. How's the leg?" Kurt asks.

Sebastian shakes the set of crutches propped up against the table before replying. "Still a bit stiff."

"Guess you'll have to stay off your knees for awhile then." Blaine bugs out his eyes because... _Kurt_. And how is that even appropriate?

But Sebastian laughs. "Well it's a good thing I don't spend a lot of time on my knees."

"Sure you don't," Kurt says and purses his lips. "Saw your mother at the hospital."

"Yeah. She's staying here actually. She's staying for awhile."

Kurt raises his eyebrows and hums and Sebastian looks suddenly and uncharacteristically shy. "You look quite a lot like her."

"I know."

"I was sufficiently amused by that fact."

"I'm sure you were."

Kurt hums again and takes a sip of his coffee as Blaine looks between them, baffled by their conversation. "Well," Kurt says after a silent moment. "As lovely as this little kidnap victims reunion has been, we've decided to take our beverages to go, so... I guess we'll see you around."

Sebastian nods at them and Kurt turns away, Blaine moving with him automatically, one finger still attached to him via his jeans.

"Hey, Kurt," Sebastian calls out and Kurt turns back to look at him. "If there's ever a zombie apocalypse, you're the only guy I'd count on to save my ass, as flat and unappealing as it may be."

"You boys and your zombie apocalypses," Kurt says wryly with a little shake of his head. He goes to turn away, but turns back half a second later. "You bring the chainsaw," he says and Sebastian grins.

"It's a _double_ date."

Kurt makes a little hum of interest and raises one eyebrow. "Marcus?"

And Sebastian is weirdly shy again. He shrugs and looks down at his cup of coffee. "We were national news."

"Of course we were," Kurt says and preens. He gives Sebastian a wink. "Good luck with that. Don't screw it up with your douchebaggery."

Sebastian laughs. "I'll do my best," he says. He and Kurt nod companionably at each other and Kurt tugs Blaine away and towards the exit.

At the door of the Lima Bean, Kurt pries Blaine's fingers out of his belt loops and twines them with his own and they walk out into the bright sunlight. But not before checking to be sure the parking lot is free of sketchy vans.


End file.
